John wrote a lovely post about when a loved one is deployed and the homefront is waiting for the casualty notifications they know are imminent, and how the pain and suffering of the homefront should figure in prosecution of a war. But even more powerful and poignant were the comments it inspired, especially as the discussion veered toward "waiting" when a loved one is deployed.
A number of wives and girlfriends spoke up, including Maggie, who is about to send her beloved to war again (as a sailor on the ground):
[...]He is more alive than any ten other men. He has a purpose. He will execute the mission and return with every sailor.
And I will wait. I don't choose to wait. I don't choose to breathe. I don't choose for my heart to beat in this rhythm.
When he returns, he will be white-f#%^ing-hot. He will not knock my socks off....he will melt them.
And if, heaven's forfend, this is the time he does not return..........I would celebrate what we had. Because we will have had more in our time together than most people I know will have in their lifetime. My love for M&Ms doesn't reflect it, but I am actually a *quality* not a *quantity* girl. Not that it matters, I could not more choose not to "wait" than I could choose not to breathe. This is who he is. This is who he was born to be. [...]
I am paraphrasing (and I may not have it right) here, but I believe John Adams said, "There are two kinds of people of any worth in this world, those with a purpose and those who acquire the purpose of others." SB has a purpose. It makes him more alive, more valuable, more everything than any other man I know.
Having him is a gift. Fulfilling the mission is who he is. So how can waiting be a burden?