A soldier’s wife

I ain’t no Robert Springer.
Don’t even want to be.
His poetry was memorable
Just like he was to me.

Been asked to write a poem for you.
Sometimes the words just flow.
But there’s times like this reunion
I’m not sure which way to go.

We’re standing in an airport,
Cigar smoke wafting by.
Just don’t get sick (I tell myself),
And try hard not to cry.

You see, we’re two months pregnant.
He’s leaving us today.
Not sure of what the future holds
Or the price he’ll have to pay.

They said don’t write of sad things,
Or of problems way back home.
So, we kept it locked inside us,
And carried it alone.

My niece is a Navy SEAL wife,
What’s important to us all
Is that we need a strong support group,
And friends that we can call

There were times we never heard a word
(Guess no news was just as well).
We didn’t know the worst of it;
You guys were living hell.

Can’t imagine what you saw there.
Don’t even want to try.
Little did we know back then
What PTSD was and why.

The guys who came home suffered
With memories that wouldn’t quit.
Some of them turned to self-abuse,
Some never seemed to fit.

Fireworks and car backfires
Had you diving for the ground.
“Who’s that crazy guy who lives there?
Don’t think he’s quite too sound.”

Sometimes, we thought there was no end
To the nightmares and the sweats.
But hopefully, it’s behind you, or
This is as good as it will get.

If you’re sitting here today, guys,
You’re survivors and you’re older.
But we won’t forget your sacrifice.
We’re proud of all our soldiers.

THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE