Osama no longa

The big bad wolf has been killed, identified, and tossed into the sea.  Last night Mike and I watched the president announce Osama is dead.  I know its not the end, and that he has so many that will continue to send out his evil tasks. However, I could not help but cry tears of joy.  It wasn't at his death.  It happens every time I hear the national anthem, bag pipes, or anything that might remind me of a military funeral.  I waited for a year for Mike to come home.  I was not engaged to him, there were no promises made, and I had full intentions that we would just end up being friends.  I wrote him every day.  The mail lady knew our story, and would rejoice with me when she saw Free Postage on the envelope, because it was from him.  news would travel at about 14 days per letter.  I loved him.  I couldn't hide from it, but I was prepared for a life just as friends.  I sat with his mom everyday on her couch just watching the news and waiting for news.  None ever came from the news, just one letter at a time.  Last night I was reminded of all of that.  I know that there are many that fight. Many that leave families behind.  Many that wait.  This moment was mine and mine alone, because its Mike.  I waited for a year.  I wrote him every day and I waited for him to come home from a way that was being fought because of the actions of Osama and the men under him.  I am proud to know him.  He has seen things none of us can imagine, cause they were seen through his eyes during a time that the war was at large.  He lost friends, and in some ways parts of himself.  He served honorably. He came home and has now been identified as 50% disabled.  Sure no one else sees it, but I do.  He hurts, when no one sees.  He is my husband and I am proud of him, because even though he did not catch OBL, he fought in a war against his evil.  Thats all...I just thought I should say that.