What Does it Mean to Serve

This was on the USCG instagram account the other day. I have a response to this, but it is not for everyone. Many might decide that what I say is offensive/callus/selfish/unsupportive etc. But the truth is, that only those who really know, can really appreciate. For everyone else, it's some sort of heart string or political opinion. This is what it means to serve:

My husband joined the USCG after I told him not to. That hasn't stopped me from standing by him and being the support he needs to succeed in his career. To serve in the USCG means missed anniversaries, birthdays, births, deaths, major illnesses you aren't there to help with, depression, doubt, worry, a lonely bed, an empty pew next to me on Sunday, my son acting out because he misses daddy, my sanity fraying as I try to navigate through all the adjustments and parenting, crying myself to sleep, holding my child while he cries because daddy missed his pinewood derby race, holding and singing to my screaming baby who split her lip open in the shower while I was trying to wash my hair - blood from her lip running down my shoulder, simultaneously my son dumping a bottle of shampoo into his bath tub so that he has bubbles, pillows made of daddy's old shirts, baking cookies, navigating how to homeschool, learning the fire suppression system of the 47' MLB so that I can help him study, late night workouts after both kids are in bed, new friends, Coastie Wife Bestie (I love you), handwritten letters, long distance romance, losing my shit on my husband - and then having to apologize, hating the USCG, loving the USCG, being the proudest wife ever, teaching our son that 'ensign' and 'Vincent' are not the same thing, for that matter it's not the 'National Vincent', the best sweats ever (thanks Cape May), difficult reintegration when daddy gets home, moving-A Lot, movers, isolated coastal communities, beautiful beaches, surf training, 2 boat training, surfmen that don't surf, helo ops, dinner at the station, salty sea air, wind in my hair, long walks on the beach, my husband, honor, being another wife's cheerleader, "are you kidding me!? What the what!?", dog quarantines, Miss "Merlin", military discounts only available to the DoD, Skype/Facetime/Google Hangouts, Sallys, family, devotion to duty, grace, meal trains, 2nd boat, coin op laundromats, sewing on name tapes and crows, pinning ceremonies, sacrificing my career, the list goes on. 

Serving, when you're the spouse, means a whole lot of give and having to be adaptable. This life isn't for everyone, and many of us struggle (not all the times, but it happens), and we are a special breed of spouse. We hate your job and we love it at the same time. People, not in this line of spousehood, will say, "just imagine your service member spouse feels". Yes, my husband felt awful last night while he was on speakerphone singing to our screaming daughter from across the country. He would have rather been here to try to comfort her in person and to lift me up as I was starting to lose it. But I also know that husband would tell anyone who asked that the non service member spouse has it worse and should be recognized for their service. So, this is what service means in our house.