The summer began like all of the others with the flurry of the end of school activities having left us all breathless and ready to flop on the couch ready to regroup. Except this time there was no catching our breaths, there were checklists to mark off and once they were done one by one my first born son and my only daughter would answer there call to serve this Country while we are at war.
It was surreal, like back to school shopping or getting someone ready for prison- I'm not sure which. We went as a family and stacked up our shopping cart- it was a clunky activity as there are 5 of us. With each thing that went in to the cart I could feel them getting farther away. I mean unless your children have served in our Armed Forces there is nothing else like it - knowing that your are sending your babies away- that you would lay down your own life for. Yet at some point we've taken them to a recruiters office, given our blessing for what they want to do and watched as they 'Took an oath to protect this country and lay down their lives for it if need be...' So those words just clinked around this big house all summer. They are especially loud at night after everyone is sleeping. It became my greatest pride and sadly joined my other monsters under the bed.
I stayed busy, first on my list was the final major reconstruction surgery from my breast cancer. I timed it to be one week after my daughter left. Joe had left the week before. I felt that they would be safer in the hands of a Drill Sgt. than anywhere near a place where there could be bad news on me. No new cancer found, but the pain management was brutal as expected because of my previous complications. I sent Jack to be with family in Jeff City so I could be in complete solitude and heal physically - writhing in pain is a private activity for me. For those of your that have been on my journey with me you will know when I say I took a long walk on my daisy path for a week. I was isolated from Joe and Sophie for the first time in their life- finding you-tube videos was my downfall as I got a glimpse into what they might be going through- crying hurt to much so I just watched and sucked it up.
And I wrote letters, never letting on how bad things were- in how much despair I found myself. They were letters of support, encouragement and sometimes just the daily goings on of a life I knew they must long for... the pets, local channels, neighborhood gossip. Days turned into weeks without hearing their voice. I started to wilt. I had to move my fingers with heavy purpose to write the letters- it was 'go' time! They needed my support now more than ever. So daily I would push past all of the personal strife. I even set up a mail table to fwd them letters which I would receive and repackage. It was the business of the activity that made it bearable. And when I got a letter it was like a slice of rich chocolate cake; I couldn't devour it at the mailbox! I wanted to take my favorite seat and take my time savoring every word.
We had bit off too much to chew, getting rid of our monstrosity of a house, 6000 sq ft of empty seemed urgent when they left. Their rooms semi packed up- I could barely go upstairs. Jack didn't want to stay up there alone so we simultaneously jumped into a real estate market that hasn't been easy to navigate. Yes. All at the same time as the above. I claim emotional duress for doing every possible thing we could to cause me another stroke or possible heart attack. The stress was out the roof all summer!
Then... a break in the clouds! Joe called one day. A Sunday- they had gotten phone privileges for that day if everyone stayed out of trouble it would be 1 hour, once a week. It was like water in the desert. I gulped it down as fast as I could - I didn't even remember what I wanted to say. Just hearing his voice was enough to bring deep sleep that night. He asked about his sister, I didn't know any more than he did. She wrote but not as much as him, we both craved her letters and her voice. My son had asked for me to write to a couple of soldiers that didn't seem to have family or seemed 'down'. He was becoming a tough soldier but his caring nature was deeply ingrained. Just the fact that he was reaching out for another soldier in that capacity made me think of the kind man that he had become.
We were nearing the end of this training hell. My children had endured so much all summer and were gleaming shining stars when I looked at the sky at night. I knew they would finish BCT strong, never had a doubt about the PT test. Not so much because of their amazing physical condition but their mental strength. Here were two kids that had endured so much in such a short life, come out of it wonderful, funny, charming human beings and courageous enough to want to defend their country. That's when it first dawned on me. Oh my God, I raised them- I did it for a very long time alone. Did I make them this strong by MY example?
Sophie made Private 2nd class! her face was somber as the drill Sgt. pinned her with her new rank but it was because I was 5 ft from her and she hadn't seen me for 11 weeks and still could jump in my arms. I saw her smiley face face and new it was still my girlie, I was so proud of her. Our reunion was just how I imagined. I can replay it over and over in my minds eye and it will always cheer me up.
She had changed - her body looked like a body builder or a bike courier. Her Drill Sgts called her a beast because she was relentless and appeared to be able to take any amount of pain- forever focused as if she had found her own daisy path!; once even having been dropped 10 ft on her back with only her camel pack to break her fall-when her spotters were not paying attention and she asked if she could go back up. I know the letter she sent after Victory Forge (4 days and nights) testing everything they'd learned sleeping in the dirt, etc ending with a 15 km march overnight back to the barracks.
She said "Momma, I was in so much pain but thought of you when you went through chemo. If you could do that -than I would do this- you were always my inspiration."
For all the times you may have not done things right, felt like you let your kids down be it by your choices or the universes. They are watching not how hard you land or even how many times you fall but how cheerfully you get up. There is no shame in pain, no shame in fails, no shame in detours- Be the example in the way you smile when you shake it off and hold their hand and keep walking.
There is a good to every sorrow. These last two weeks I saw the sorrows of my life redeemed themselves in my childrens success. What more could we ever want as parents?
~L
