Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Not everyone enjoys smelling as much as I do and you may not be able to tell by looking at me but I can smell better than almost anyone. I can smell things that no one else can and I can pinpoint that smell almost perfectly. I can tell you exactly what a smell smells like and most often I will get the response of, "Oh yeah, it does!" My man has a smell. Not a bad, sweaty sock smell, but a Marine smell. More detailed than that, a jet-flying Marine smell. In a nutshell, he smells like jet fuel. Not all of the time, but usually. His truck smells like jet fuel, his flight suits smell like jet fuel, his wallet smells like jet fuel, and even his hands smell like jet fuel at the end of every day. Most people have not even smelled jet fuel. If you are curious, you can smell my Marine and never again forget that smell. I love it. I love the smell of jet fuel. It means he is home.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
What a day...a kids' parade in the morning complete with an abundance of flags, an apple pie baking contest, an ice cream truck with my favorite, Bomb Pops, and a fire hydrant let loose by the local fire station. It was like something out of the past. As my children played in the water, I looked around at all of the faces. They were so different and so unaware. Unaware of Daddies so far away still putting their life on the line in the name of freedom. I thought of my man so far away. I am so proud of him, of his willingness to do what so few will. I tell my children all of the time what a brave man he is, he is definitely not a coward. I know in his heart he wants to be with us but I also know that he would give his all for this country to know we, his family, are safe. And these people. I thank God for him and those who have gone before. We live in the greatest country in the world and I hope there will always be those willing to do what my man does.