As far as I’m concerned, every job in the Army is just as important as the next. If the cooks can make a hearty meal instead of flavorless boiled chicken, it makes a big difference in morale. If there are thorough soldiers working the radios and monitoring the cameras, it makes for a more efficient war. When mechanics are skilled with maintenance, everyone can do their job properly.
Everyone’s job is important, but that doesn’t mean I want my husband to have any job. Now, admittedly, he is in the infantry. Because of that, I should probably not expect him to spend his entire career behind a desk. Still, I was very comfortable with the idea of him spending the duration of his deployment manning the tactical operations center—the radios and cameras. Now that he’s out doing missions on a regular basis, my nerves seem to be getting the best of me.
Of course, my husband loves the change. When asked how he liked Iraq by his new commanding officer, he responded with “I thought there’d be more killin’.” That’s my husband. The C.O. laughed at him and said that it’s not that kind of a war anymore. And as much solace as that brings me, I still can’t help but pick up my husband’s share of anxiety where he seems to be lacking.
So with an extra hour of my day dedicated to prayer and an extra two hours dedicated to my worrying, I’m even more eagerly counting down the days to his return. And I figure that as long as I never get so busy worrying that I forget to be proud of him, it will be all right.
Everyone’s job is important, but that doesn’t mean I want my husband to have any job. Now, admittedly, he is in the infantry. Because of that, I should probably not expect him to spend his entire career behind a desk. Still, I was very comfortable with the idea of him spending the duration of his deployment manning the tactical operations center—the radios and cameras. Now that he’s out doing missions on a regular basis, my nerves seem to be getting the best of me.
Of course, my husband loves the change. When asked how he liked Iraq by his new commanding officer, he responded with “I thought there’d be more killin’.” That’s my husband. The C.O. laughed at him and said that it’s not that kind of a war anymore. And as much solace as that brings me, I still can’t help but pick up my husband’s share of anxiety where he seems to be lacking.
So with an extra hour of my day dedicated to prayer and an extra two hours dedicated to my worrying, I’m even more eagerly counting down the days to his return. And I figure that as long as I never get so busy worrying that I forget to be proud of him, it will be all right.