Family is family. Friends are friends. Even an urban family, however closely knit, never shares a bed with a warrior. The sacred trust between a warrior and his wife is unbreakable, even in the face of marital turbulence.

Those quiet midnight goodbyes…before he heads out to the flight line… or before the call of the Boatswain’s pipe fades… these husbands and wives, boyfriends and girlfriends, become bound together. Those memories are sustenance for the warrior as the world explodes around him. Or as silence falls forever… Warriors deserve more than the simple things we hear about in the news… they deserve a warm memory where the lines between self and selfless are shared with his woman… Those last fervent kisses linger… and with every letter from home… he is reminded.

A lady who tends the home turf… the daily grind of Americana… remembers tracing the edges and lines on her lover’s face, his lips with her fingertips… memorizing the sound of his footsteps in the steel toed boots as he leaves… the last breath in her ear… such moments give her peace… as she strips the bed, feeds the kids, and consoles herself while counting down the days until his return.

When a warrior returns… her job begins anew. Wiping away the sand. Waiting patiently through the sleepless nights. Loving him as he grieves for buddies that aren’t coming home. She eases the transition… she knows just when the kids need to go off to Grandmother’s house for night… she slowly coaxes him back from the blinding reality of war, and into the safety of their shared, sacred trust.

Over the weekend, I watched a few moments of Munich. It reminded me of many things… I was struck by the gritty and poignant depiction of a warrior, his job, his wife and how when the nightmares creeped into his marital bed – she was there. With the words I Love you…

The clip below is brief… and tonight, I will say a prayer for a friend who is far away… has no wife but has many friends praying for him… and remembering some friendships are a sacred trust as well.

— Media Lizzy