Mothers, lovers and wives send their men to war filled with the hope they will return. Of all the soldiers there, theirs will return. Tough, resilient, back to normal.

They spend day after day, night after night, worrying about their safety. Each time someone is wounded or killed, this anxiety inches ever upward. Yet they remain resilient; to ‘be there’ for their man to return to.

When their war hero returns home, their joy is boundless, their gratitude fathomless and their love fills the universe. Over those first few days of adjusting, ‘settling in’, little irritations are overlooked as “we will never know what they saw or had to do out there.” The women tread softly, lest they bring out the beast. Again.

This continues until walking on cracked eggs become the new way of life. Initially keeping apart, because all the other returned soldiers ‘look so normal’, the women may meet eventually for a chat, sharing what they do to keep the peace. They feel calmer knowing they are not alone. They feel inspired to use what is working for someone. Always taking action.

One might mention that there does not seem to be peace in their home anymore – the Afghanistan, or Iraq or wherever their man was, was brought home as part of their baggage.

What bright ideas, what innovative schemes arise from their desire to heal their beloved man? They ask, research, share, connive, sweat blood and tears, shout, scream and cry.

What else do they do to remain resilient?

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