A year is a long tme

This past week, my girls and I traveled to Tampa to support one of my closest friends as her husband left for a year-long deployment.

We've only been out of the military for about a month ourselves.

Watching it all unfold from the sidelines was surreal.

I remembered the hurry up and wait. Trying to make every moment count. Wanting to be patient but ending up snapping over something small because underneath it all, you're scared. A year is a long time.

The moment that stuck with me most wasn't the goodbye.

It was later that afternoon whenthe youngest came home from the pool, saw dad's truck in the driveway, and smiled.

"See? I told you Daddy would be home."

I gently turned to explain that the truck would stay, but Daddy wouldn't. Not until she finished kindergarten next year.

Kids don't measure time in months. They measure it in birthdays, holidays, school years, and all the moments they wish their dad was there.

People often say, "Well, that's the life they signed up for."

Maybe.

But choosing this life doesn't make it hurt less. It doesn't make a year of single parenting less overwhelming. It doesn't make missing your spouse, or watching your children miss their parent, any easier.

Military families carry a weight most people never see.

And military kids? They don't choose resilience. They become resilient because life asks them to.

As I watched my friend begin another countdown, I realized something.

I don't miss deployments.

I don't miss the uncertainty or the waiting.

But I will always have a soft spot for the families standing at the beginning of another goodbye.

To every military spouse counting down today, and every military kid learning to be brave long before they should have to be I see you. I know this season. And I promise, one day you'll look back and realize you were stronger than you ever knew.