Patches and Pockets

My Marine has several different uniforms and all for different occasions or duty assignments. Right now the uniform worn is a flight suit because he is currently on flying orders here at Miramar, California. For anyone that has ever had to wash one of these uniforms knows that it holds a million patches and it has lots of velcro/zippered pockets. Any one that knows my man would know that each one of these pockets is filled with special medallion coins, school supplies such as pens and highlighters, money, i.d.'s. You name it and it is probably in one of those little pockets. So cleaning it out before washing it can be quite a job.

Most of the time I complain about having to empty those pockets, but recently took a moment to really examine it. While giving it a full look over, I realized that this uniform symbolizes a time line in my husband's career. It is very distinct, only his, and although his colleagues sport one just the same, it is still unique just to him. For each one of his patches describes my man, where he has been, what group he is attached to, his rank, schools he has attended, abilities, and some of his personal flying accomplishments. As I began to take each one off, I pulled less rigidly as I had before. I handled them with great care and took a moment to really look at each one closely before laying them on top of the washer. Instead of now thinking this is a chore to be doing, I began to feel privileged to be trusted with such a precious piece of my husband. With each patch pulled off and each pocket emptied I could hear his comments from the past " You know I won't fly forever and I will one day have to decide what I want to be when I grow up." " Got another boyscout patch today." After reflecting on his comments. My heart sank for him. For the first time, I realized he is right. Our time is passing and with each new patch and accomplishment he wears is really a reflection of his years and time spent in the Marine Corps. With each victory has come a new time and I am so thankful I have been here to see him grow from the time he was winged to now. I could not be any prouder. So as I put his old suit in and turned on the washer, I decided I would treasure this sweet moment. Because it really is just a short time in our life. For with this uniform there is a left over jet fuel smell that only an aviators wife can love and a Marine that loves to fly and be covered in it.