Day Forty-Three: The Way We Get By

There's an airport up in Bangor, Maine that is the first and last U.S. stop for the majority of American service members deploying to Iraq, Afghanistan, and Kuwait. My husband mentioned it to me the last time he came home saying that a group of senior citizens were at the airport to greet the troops and how good it felt to be welcomed and to know that he was back in the states. I remember thinking how nice that was, but perhaps not fully comprehending exactly what they did.

Last night, I watched a documentary entitled, "The Way We Get By" which chronicled these greeters and three of them in particular. I gained an insight I was unprepared for and found myself crying both tears of sadness and gratitude while watching incredibly personal moments of troops taking their first steps on American soil. The seniors shake hands, offer hugs, supply words of encouragement and thanks as well as the more practical items such as free cell phones to call family, cookies, candy, and cigarettes. They also maintain a memorial wall with the names and photos of every service member killed in action.

It is an incredibly moving film and made me appreciate not war, but those willing to give up time and possibly life to serve. I found myself a little jealous even that these seniors were first to hug my husband, the first to welcome him home. I wanted to go back in time and to be there myself. I needed to believe that maybe that gesture alone might be enough to regain my marriage. At the very least I felt proud of my husband, proud to be his wife and so very ashamed that I never let him know that when I had the chance.

I never really wanted to be married, thinking we could go on as Jeff and Ame eternally without the complicated Mr. and Mrs. to get in the way. I fought the notion of being referred to as Mrs. Bramlett thinking it somehow lessened me. I failed to admit that I was so in love and committed to him that I did not know how to be without him ever again. I failed at so many aspects of our marriage really, but I think if I would have just been able to admit to myself and to him how proud I am, how happy to be his wife and to know him, then maybe things might now be different.

For a brief time I was very much loved by a wonderful man who has proudly and bravely served our nation even when he may not have believed in the policies or politics. My husband believes in the integrity and honor that I have disrespected in almost every way conceivable. Sometimes it is too late to say you're sorry, to admit you failed, to beg for forgiveness, but that does not mean you do not still owe those things.

There is so much I would like to do differently, but honoring both what he does and who we were together are at the top of that list. I do not know who those seniors are that greeted my husband as he returned to the states, but I am happy that however they manage to get by, they are able to bring even a little comfort to the men and women we are missing here at home. I do not know how I will manage to get by without him, but I know that he deserves the chance to be who he needs to be. I suppose that is how I honor him and it doesn't matter how hard it might be.
http://www.hulu.com/watch/199884/the-way-we-get-by