Holding On Through The Distance- A Military Wife’s Love Story

As we wrap up this month of love stories, we couldn’t think of a more fitting way to close than with this one. When we think about love, we think about resilience, devotion, and the quiet sacrifices made in the name of something bigger than ourselves. That’s why we asked our sister, Calinda—the oldest of our family—to share her love story. She’s been a guiding light for us, an example of unwavering commitment, and someone who has shown us what it truly means to stand by the one you love through every challenge life throws your way.

Her story isn’t just about romance, it’s about sacrifice, strength, and the kind of love that endures, even in the hardest of times. For 28 years, she and her husband have weathered the highs and lows of military life, spending countless days and nights apart, yet never questioning their love for one another.

This is their story - one of love, distance, and the unbreakable bond that kept them together through it all.

What a beautiful way to close out the month. 💕

*****

Our love story began 28 years ago and has been filled with sacrifices. My husband served in the military for 26 years, going on two tours and spending a lot of time away from home—training, taking courses, and even fighting fires and floods. Was it easy? Absolutely not. But not once did we question our love for one another.

From the moment I fell in love with him at 18, I knew our life together would be anything but ordinary. Loving a man in the military meant embracing uncertainty, cherishing the time we had, and finding strength in the moments we were apart.

The first time he left for deployment, we had two young girls, and I was in college full-time. I felt like my heart had been packed into his duffel bag, traveling with him across the world. The empty side of the bed was a constant reminder of his absence. But our love was—and still is—resilient. In every email, every late-night phone call, and every whispered "I love you" before the line cut out, we built a bridge that distance could not break.

Being a military wife meant having to wear many hats. While he was away I had to become the rock, the nurturer and the decision maker. I honestly felt like a single married mom. I learned to celebrate the milestones alone, handle the daily struggles, and put on a brave face even when I  felt like I was falling apart. Finding balance was never easy but I learned that asking for and accepting help was not a sign of weakness. I was able to lean on family, friends, and other military spouses who could relate to how I was feeling. It honestly made all the difference in the world. 

There were nights when I wanted to cry myself to sleep, wishing he was there to hold me. After months of not seeing him, I would reach for his cologne, smell it, and cry quietly alone. I had to be both mom and dad, making tough decisions on my own while keeping our daughters feeling safe and loved.  Some days, the worry felt too heavy to carry. Would he come home the same man? Would our girls remember what it was like to have him home? Was it going to be a tough adjustment on our family? Would people look at him differently? But there was also joy—the overwhelming excitement of a phone call, the relief of hearing his voice after weeks of silence, and the quiet moments where I reminded myself why we chose this life together. 

To help our daughters cope with his absence, my husband came up with a small but meaningful tradition. Before each deployment, he would buy several small gifts from the dollar store for them to open every Sunday. He wrapped them each individually before he left and wrote a personal note for them to read every Sunday. This simple gesture helped the time pass a little quicker and kept them feeling close to him, even when they were oceans apart. Seeing their excitement every Sunday reminded me that love could be present, even in the smallest of ways. 

Through it all, my husband never failed to mention how much he appreciated everything I did at home. He knew that while he was serving our country, I was serving our family-holding everything together, making sacrifices of my own, and ensuring that life continued as smoothly as possible for our girls. He often told me (and still does to this day) that I was as much a hero in this journey as he was. His words, his gratitude, and the unwavering respect he had for my role really stuck out to me. It wasn’t just his strength that kept us going, it was both of ours together. 

Reunions were always magical. The first time I saw him after five months apart, the world around us faded. No one tells you how nervous you get, how your hands shake just before they touch his again. But when they do, it feels like coming home. The hardest part was saying goodbye again after only two short weeks, knowing it would be another two months before we’d see each other again.

Our love story is one of sacrifice and devotion, of learning that strength doesn’t mean never being afraid but facing fear together. The military may have shaped our days, but it never defined our love. No matter the distance, no matter the time apart, we always found our way back to each other.

Because this love? It’s unbreakable - and still going strong.