An army family doesn’t just live together,
it learns, quietly, how to live apart.
Our children did not grow up by calendars.
Birthdays, festivals, small celebrations,
they arrived not on dates,
but with his leave,
with the sound of a door opening,
with the presence we had been waiting for.
I still remember that sound,
the sudden tring-tring of the landline,
and the rush of little feet and even faster hearts.
Three minutes.
To gather a month of love into a few trembling words.
To speak, to laugh, to belong.
And sometimes, in the middle of it all,
the line would fall silent.
We learnt early,
love does not always get the luxury of time.
And yet, there were moments when life took us closer to his world.
Places where we learnt to breathe,
and then to breathe a little deeper, just to find enough air.
Places where ice had to be melted
just to gather a handful of water.
Places of harsh, unrelenting heat,
and places of quiet, breathtaking beauty.
And sometimes,
just absence.
But we also had our share of joy,
a few years of togetherness,
greener pastures,
moments where life felt almost ordinary.
In his absence, two little children continued to grow,
while in his heart, they remained the same.
But time does not wait at borders.
It carried them forward,
into strength, into dreams, into wings of their own.
Until one day, without announcement,
they outgrew the waiting.
And somewhere between those years,
a quiet voice seems to echo
“Papa, I’m not a kid anymore,
I just grew up waiting for you.”
Today, he returns.
Not to the noise he left behind,
but to a home gentler in its silence,
to an almost empty nest,
to me,
With the years I have lived, stories I have gathered,
and moments I now hold softly, ready to be told.
Yesterday, as I saw him in his uniform for the last time,
something within me stood still.
There was pride, deep and unwavering.
There was an ache, quiet but undeniable.
And there were goosebumps
the kind only our flag can awaken.
And in that moment,
my heart whispered a quiet gratitude to the Almighty,
for every unseen protection,
for every answered prayer,
for bringing him home, safe.
For those who have loved the nation not as a word,
but as a way of life,
this moment is never easy.
But perhaps service was never just the uniform.
Perhaps it was always the spirit,
finding new meaning, new purpose, new paths.
So today, we do not stop.
We simply learn to walk differently.
Because a soldier may step away from the field,
but the nation never steps out of him.
And some duties,
are not left behind,
they are carried, for life.
Simi
Simi says... 