Today’s post was written by my friend Karen R. Sanderson. She is a fellow writer, an outstanding editor, and also an artist and a poet. She told me this poem was inspired by A1C Kristi P-L, USAF, pictured above, who served with Karen’s son Kenton in Iraq.
As we celebrate Independence Day here in the United States this week, it seemed the perfect time to reflect with gratitude on those in uniform. This thought-provoking poem helps us understand the unique sacrifices made by our women when they don a military uniform. May God bless them and God Bless America.
The Trade
She packed up her comfy jeans and lying-around T-shirts,
She shrugs into a heavy canvas uniform, now her second skin.
Boxed up her peep-toe high heels and sandals and stacked them away,
Now all she’s got are dusty high-top boots with heavy tread.
No delicate black eyeliner around lovely hazel eyes,
Just smudges of purple, her badges of fatigue.
No long showers here, nope,
Just unshaved legs so she looks like the rest of the troop.
Forget salon haircuts with mousse or gel,
In marches a permanent helmet-head hairdo.
She strains to remember how lovely that last manicure felt,
Handling weapons with broken, scraggy fingernails, unpolished and blunt.
Velvety cosmetic powder abandoned at home,
She wears the Iraqi desert upon her face.
Late night chat-fest nights with friends of her choosing, no more,
Now, it’s early morning wake-up and drill.
No delicate sparkling pendants around her neck,
Just a dull metal chain with tags that identify her blood type.
While mother’s comforting shoulder and soothing touch wait at home,
She learns combat strategies and how to react to roadside bombs.
Instead of cradling a tiny baby,
She shrugs into a burdened flak jacket that hides her girlish figure.
She rolls out with a loaded M4 and a 9mm Beretta.
Karen was raised by a mother who wanted to be an English teacher and who worked for Merriam-Webster as a proofreader and an aunt who could complete the Sunday New York Times crossword puzzle in a day. Their favorite expression was, “Look it up!” Karen reads punctuation and grammar manuals for fun. Her favorite book is the dictionary.
Karen is an editor and proofreader, blogger, writer, and grandmother. You can find her atThe Word Shark website. Find her blog here. Connect with Karen on Facebook, Twitter,LinkedIn, and Google+.
Thank you, Denise. Since my son and daughter-in-law both are in service, I think about it every day. Thanks for your kind comments.
Karen, this is one of your finest. Elizabeth, thank you for highlighting Karen’s writing. What a lovely reminder of the many ways men and women sacrifice for us and our freedoms.
Yesterday I met a vet who works for Wounded Warriors and we talked awhile about the program. I was reminded of how impressed and grateful I am for the service of those on active duty and those who have come home.
May we always remember…
Thank you for confirming my own impression of Karen’s poem, Denise! The Wounded Warrior program is marvelous, but a sad reminder of how many of our service men and women are STILL sacrificing every day of their lives.
An especially profound and moving poem, not only as we celebrate independence day, but always and forever. These words so effectively touch us with the reminder that none of this comes for free, but rather from the price paid via the dedication of others. There is nothing ordinary in the life of a person given to service, but rather pointedly extraordinary, and our girl Karen has captured the essence of such sacrifice beautifully and memorably.
Love all those fantastic comments up there above my head!
Barbara, as always, your reflections and articulate expressions add so much to the conversation. I am so grateful for the outpouring of connection being expressed for Karen’s powerful poem.
Thank you, Barbara, for your warm and wonderful comments.
I have wrapped your poem, Karen, around my shoulders for this 4th of July, wrapping the thankfulness and awe toward those who serve so we can celebrate this great country on its day of independence. Thank you!
Pam, your imagery is wonderful! Yes, we can indeed wrap ourselves in the powerful words of a good writer, and isn’t that part of what all we writers hope for? That our words will inspire such a response? Your writing, I know, has inspired many.
Thank you so much for visiting and commenting.
Thank you, Pamela. 🙂
Having come from a military family (both parents in WWII, Marines), I appreciate your poem. Thank you for sharing.
The military “way” contrasted sharply with off-base life. I remember quiet talks overheard during which my parents decided to always live off the base. The major reason I gleaned dealt with rank-pulling among children at the base schools. My parents had the foresight to avoid this problem: we attended town schools.
My parent’s uniforms and fatigues held positions of high import when the times arose. But when we all cuddled on the couch each evening for the dramatic reading of fairy tales, our parents became our refuge.
What a powerful and vivid memory, Dody. Your parents are clearly people who understood what was important in life. Thank you so much for sharing these reflections with us.
Life on base at Minot AFB is good for my kids. And most of their activities are there, the boys’ sports. But they do manage to get downtown now and then. And they all do loads of cuddling, too!
Lucky kids!
I read Karen’s poem a couple of years ago and it’s just as meaningful the second time. I agree that it’s a good reminder to remember all that our military go through every day. Thanks again, Karen and Elizabeth.
You’re right, Karoline, this poem is timeless…at least until war is no more and we no longer need a military service. Now that’s a vision worth contemplating!
Thanks so much for stopping by and commenting.
Thank you, Karoline. We have one with your name on it, too, remember? 🙂
I sit in my trailer, battling with a wifi connection that won’t connect and with a FANtastic vent which can’t decide whether to stay open or closed, each time loudly proclaiming its need for yet a little more lubrication. I’m trying to digest what can only charitably be considered dinner…odds and ends from the fridge and freezer when we still owned a home. I’m disappointed that we’ll miss seeing little ones on the Fourth, knowing they’ll be much older before we get to see them again.
Then I read Karen’s poem.
I have no heavy backpack. The afternoon’s rain has settled any dust there may have been. If I make the effort, I should be able to see a rainbow, since the sun is shining through the current shower. A little time with the emory board brought my nails back into a reasonable semblance of respectability and my peep-toe sandals are carelessly left where I stepped out of them.
I will remember the backpack, the distance from loved ones, the interruption of daily life and pray it is only temporary. May all the combat boots come off for good and aching feet once again know the pampering of a day in the spa.
Thank you Karen and Elizabeth. I’ll have my priorities straight tomorrow.
Oh, Esther, what a beautiful response to Karen’s powerful poem.
And you’re still allowed to whine a little…it’s been a pretty grueling week or two at Camp Larry & Esther :-).
Esther, what a heart-felt response to The Trade. I often think of our service members, as you know, my son is a service member. I think of my own complaints (the weather – too hot, too cold, waiting to hear about that new job,
griping about standing in line at the market, etc.), and then I am reminded of those who struggle, away from their families for months or years on end. I actually got to wear a flak jacket once (and I know it wasn’t fully loaded), and it nearly took me down. I cannot imagine wearing that thing all day long, and in the desert! Thank you for your comments. God bless our service members.
Thank you for sharing this poem on your blog, Elizabeth. As you can imagine, this one is very close to my heart. God bless all our military members!
Thank you for allowing me to share it, Karen. It speaks volumes about the kind of things we should be appreciating on Independence Day.