History

I have had a fondness for medieval history for a long, long time. Blame it on my heritage, the odd mix of English, Irish, Scottish, German, and Norwegian that makes up my lineage. I’ve wrote papers on the crusades, watched endless documentaries, my head is full of weird tidbits of trivia from that time period. I can wax poetic over the merits of a broadsword, and I still want a full set of chainmail.

Until the past few weeks, I had yet to twine this love of all things historical around my life as it is now.

While sorting through laundry, and picking out the mix of digi-cam from the collection of girly shirts, green socks from countless pairs of panties in a rainbow of colors, I found myself wondering about my ancestors.

I am sure there is a warrior’s wife or two, in the mix of people that make up my family tree. She is probably long lost to time now, and I’ll probably never know her name, but I wonder how she would have felt, on the eve of war.

I will have it so much easier than she would have, instead of waiting months, years, for a letter, I may go through periods where I hear from him everyday. I will, through the miracle that is technology, see him, hear his voice, while he’s half a world away.

I do not miss the irony, by the way, that my husband is fighting in the same region where my ancestors fought and bled a thousand years ago.

In a way, I am far more spoiled than that ancestor. I have access to all kinds of ways to talk to him, a better life, spoiled with the trappings of modern society, than she did.

But I cannot help but wonder, what it was like to watch him prepare for war, as I watch the Sergeant do the same. The knowledge of the risks, the knowledge of what he does, the fear the worry, it is the same.

I share a lot with that woman, I may not live in a castle, I may not wear gowns, I may not have a host of servants to run my house; but I am standing in her shoes, or rather, her slippers. I will be dealing with the same feelings, praying to the same God, struggling to get through my life, without the one person I want the most by my side. The romantic in me sees the stereotypical princess in the ivory tower, pining her heart away.

And I will spend the my year doing the same, pining for someone that has answered the call to arms.

~Jennifer