No one knows that this is the hardest job in the world.

"The sunlight is hitting my eyes. It’s time to wake up. Let me check on Olivia. Asleep. Good. I might get 30 minutes to myself. Greg is at work. I can’t wait until he’s home. I love him as much as when I married him, but part of the joy of him coming home is he watches Olivia. I love Olivia and nothing will ever break my love for her, but it gets tested everyday. Then there is cleaning, diapers, cooking, playing with Olivia, Olivia is crying now, Olivia made a mess, the dog is barking at air or just for the sake of barking – again, I have no idea where the cat is, and now Olivia is hungry. This is every day. I do all of this because I cherish what I get in return. Still, I can’t wait until he gets home tonight to help."

"Oh, wait. I dropped him off at the ship last night. He’s not coming home. He’s off to war. Again."

Being the wife of a military member is the hardest job in the world.
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The Military Wife

I can’t help but throw up a little bit in my mouth when I hear how great Hilary Clinton is. Please don’t think I’m a Trump supporter, either. That’s a political discussion. This isn’t that.

This is my campaign to tell the world that America would stop dead in its tracks if it weren’t for the women left behind when their men go to war.

Yes. I’m saying the military wife has it harder than the former First Lady of the United States and possibly the future president of our country. Their love is that great and that powerful.

When the military man leaves for war, the military wife stands alone. She has a battle to fight that is tougher than her husband’s and every other woman’s job in America. She’s fighting the war, too. Just like me. Just like our nation’s leadership. She just does it alone.

This is a discussion on that. This is a discussion on the hardest job in America. More importantly, this is a love letter to my wife.
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Training to be a military wife

"I’d love to take Olivia for a bike ride, but I can’t. It is a two-person job."

"Giving her a bath used to take ten minutes. Now it takes forty."

"I can’t even escape the grocery store under two hours."

"Then she’s sick, which makes me sick. Then I have to work, but I have to find a different babysitter that I don’t have because she’s sick."

"I don’t even know how to live a normal life. My only choice is to survive or die. I wish there was someone to show me how."

The government has spent millions of dollars to ensure I’m fit to serve in the Marine Corps. You can throw any scenario at a Marine and there is comprehensive training for it. Nothing is left to chance. A gap in training is an opportunity to die in the Marine Corps.

But the military wife gets nothing. The only thing anyone can do is look them in the eye and say, “Thank you, I love you, and good luck. You need all three.”

That’s all that can be done. A Marine leaving for war is like the husband is dead. The wife isn’t asked to adapt. She is asked to survive.

It starts first thing in the morning. My wife wakes up and expects to see me, but I’m not there. Immediately, the day starts poorly.

It continues. The trash I’m supposed to take out overflows. The bills I’m supposed to pay still need paid. Money isn’t the issue. It’s finding the time to write the check or get onto the computer. It’s time my wife doesn’t have.

Then comes the conundrum of loving something you don’t have. How do you do it? How do you love someone when they are on the other side of the world in a fight that he didn’t start and you have no idea if he’ll come home?

My wife does. I have no idea how. Yet she does. She survives. She stands by me. She loves me. Even through everything our country and I put her through, she keeps on.

The routine becomes impossible. The impossible becomes even more impossible, but she does it all. I’ve trained to every situation, my wife is just asked to survive with no help.

That and keep faithful in loving me.

My wife could fall into a pit of depravity and look for consolation elsewhere. I’m not there to give it. Why should she suffer? But she fights on. She keeps faithful.

While I’m at war, my wife is a single mother. It’s hard to be a single mother in any situation. My wife faces a fear that most single mothers don’t, though. She has the fear that there could be a Marine that knocks on her door unannounced. That Marine has news and that Marine is not me.

I’m not that Marine because the news is that I’m dead.

Our daughter doesn’t understand any of it. She just wants to know where dad is. My wife has to lie, consciously, that I’m coming home soon. She knows that isn’t true, but she has to maintain her strength to convince my daughter it is while maintaining the faith that it will happen.

Being a single mother is very, very hard. Their strength is immense. But the military wife, without training, is asked to be an even stronger single mother.

How do you do that? How do you live like that?

How do you survive like that?
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Who are these women?

"I didn’t get an email from him today. That is odd."

"Still another day. Still no email."

"It’s been a week now and I still haven’t heard from him."

"A week turns into a month. Three months pass by and still no sign of life from my husband."

"What the hell is wrong?"

That is a true story.

I was embarked on USS Bonhomme Richard from September 2009 to April 2010. Our ship and the Marines embarked received tasking and, without notice, shut off communication to the world outside the ship.

I just dropped off the grid with zero notification. She had no idea what was going on. None.

Still, she sent emails every single day. Every. Single. Day. Her only hope that I was still breathing was that she hadn’t received a single “undeliverable” message. She kept bombing away and I read every single one. What kind of strength is that?

I don’t know if I have it. My wife does, though. And so do all of the other military wives in our country.

And you know what? She keeps doing it. I deployed to Afghanistan for 330 days one year later. Somehow, she kept our home, family and herself together for a year while her only contact with me was email.

I hope your “Like” button on Facebook just got a little less significant. I want you to love Facebook. I just want you to realize there are women, like my wife, who are fighting a fight you might know nothing about with significantly less.

These women, like my wife, keep this country together. I have no idea where they summon this strength. I’ll forever be grateful for it because I can never repay her for the sacrifice and effort she has had to dedicate to wars we didn’t start.

If she wasn’t as strong as she is, I couldn’t keep myself together. Nor would the next guy, the guy next to me, and all the others that follow us.

That is a strength that can never be measured. Ever.
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What it all means

What I’m about to say is not a statement of fact or a campaign for military action. It is just a simple, probably uneducated observation. Yet it rates conversation:

Did you ever notice that terrorist attacks on our own soil elevated after the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan ended?

Is it because we aren’t on their soil, taking it to the bad guys and helping the good people rebuild their country? I don’t know. But it makes me think. Even without evidence, I think it makes my point: The wars most thought were pointless had a lot of meaning.

They kept American soil safe.

If it weren’t for our women who, driven by love that can’t be extinguished, taking care of our men at war, we would have lost those wars. Then America itself loses. If it weren’t for my wife, I’d cease to exist as the person I know today. The same can be said about every man serving next to me.

It rings just as true for our entire country.
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To those not named:

I know there are many women who served with husbands at home. I know there are also husbands with husbands and wives with wives who did the same. I chose to write this column with a gender slant for a few reasons:

1. Economy of words. Please just flip pronouns around as needed and the message remains the same.

2. We are still a male dominated force and I wanted to send a message that directly touched the hearts of the women I have described.

3. This is a love letter to my wife.

Speaking of that love letter:

Dear Rocio,

You are my everything. Without you, I am incomplete. You are the foundation of my being and our family. If you were not in my life, I would cease to exist mentally, spiritually, and, I know without a doubt, my life would end physically without you.

My debt to you will never be repaid. I’ll always try, but it’s impossible. You have the hardest job on the planet. You are the best person on the planet.

I’ll keep fighting for you. I’ll keep trying for you. I will never, ever quit on you because I know you will never, ever quit on me.

Most importantly, I will always love you.

-Greg