I eased my aching body onto the top step of the back porch and took a deep breath. Five months pregnant, I rarely left the house. I’d come outside for some fresh air—and some company. I felt lonely and scared. I half-hoped a neighbor would see me and ask if I was okay, show me someone cared. My husband, Bill, a Navy airman, usually did that. But today, like too many days, he’d been called away to the base.
I had no clue life as a military wife would be like this. I’d left family and friends behind to move into a tiny apartment in the back of an old wooden house in Hanford, California, 25 miles away from the base where Bill was stationed. He’d stay there two days for active duty, come home for a day, then leave again. I hadn’t made friends with the neighbors or the other military wives. There was only so much television I could watch before I felt the walls closing in. That’s when I’d go outside and sit under the shade of the veranda to clear my head, take my mind off my loneliness.
Read More: A Nudge to Safety – Guideposts
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