For Those Who Wait
by Karen Ferrell, 1995
It's up before dawn and coffee to go.
"Will you be home tonight?" "Well, I don't really know."
It's holding back dinner because he'll be late,
Then he comes home and tells you he already ate.
It's gear laid out everywhere, upstairs and down,
And "I'm not really sure when I'll be back in town."
It's missions and ops and "I can't really say."
And, "I think I can call, but I don't know which day."
It's time on the road when you miss him a lot,
And it seems like he's gone a lot more than he's not.
It's phone calls at three and it's love and it's hate,
And there's times when it seems you do nothing but wait.
You forget what he looks like - - you try to recall,
And you stare at his photograph up on the wall.
It's cruises when months seem to turn into years,
And it's living with hope and it's living with fear.
But it's also the women whose lives are the same;
The ones that you call when you're sick of the game.
You lean on each other when nights seem too long,
And you're there for each other, and that makes you strong.
And it's trips ending early by two days or three,
When he's home and you didn't expect him to be.
And it's letters and postcards from far distant shores,
And it's hearing the sound of his keys in the door.
And it's making it through when the going gets tough,
And the time that you do have is somehow enough.
And it's pride in a life that's not easy to live
That can ask of a man more than many can give.
And the pride and the love seem to outweigh the doubts,
And you'd rather live with him than ever without.
For no matter the miles, or the time you're apart,
He is never too far, for he's there in your heart.