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My son went off to war today...

Today at 8:05am, I became the mother of a soldier. Although, according to Uncle Sam, that actually happened sometime in April in 2011. As far as I am concerned, it happened today when my Sean headed off to war.

I have never been a proponent of war. I have always hated it. I have difficulty with the concept that death and destruction leads to peace. It makes no sense to me. I see the human side of the men and women entering the battlefield rather than the issue that brought about war in the first place. During Desert Storm, I was a single mother in college in Maine. Sean was a toddler.  When I think back to that time I am back at UMF eating lunch while watching the war. Desert Storm. The first reality show that engrossed us all. (Fortunately, my sailor sister was stationed out of harm’s way in Japan.) I watched in sadness as casualties mounted in Iraq. In between doing homework and motherly duties, I found time to write to friends from high school now in the military.  I also wrote to complete strangers letting them know someone was thinking about them. All the while feeling helpless. Hating the war and bloodshed it brought.

Soon soldiers were heading back home as new ones were sent over to replace them. The first American soil soldiers coming back from Iraq saw was in Bangor, Maine, just a couple of hours down the road from us. Many weekends I would dress Sean in his light blue USA tee shirt, pack the flags, and head to the airport not knowing when the next plane would come in. There was always (and still is) someone to greet every military man and woman. It was important to us to welcome them home. Some weekends had us waiting for a couple of hours without a uniform in sight. Always, Sean stood ready to welcome our military home with a wave his flag and sometimes a hug. Each visit brought him more signatures of heroes willing to make the ultimate sacrifice.

As he grew older, thoughts of Navy life filled his head. At ten years old, he named his first dog, Navy. Throughout high school I held my tongue when he talked of joining up. Until the recruiters started calling. I remember asking him if he could handle having someone else tell him what to do. (He sure didn’t like it when his mother or father told him.) He took the ASVAB, did well, and the other branches started calling. Toward the end of his Senior year, Sean decided to go the college route instead.

For a while anyway.

When Sean told me he was taking a break college and joining the Army, he expected me to try and talk him out of it. I didn’t. Worst-case scenarios started erupting inside my head. And still I encouraged him. His confusion was evident as he reminded me of when he was younger and he had to keep his caps separate from his gun; while I remembered the time he accidently shot a friend in the stomach with a pellet gun. How scared he was. Big guns do not leave a small red mark. What would it be like for him if he kills a man? Still I supported him.

For you see, life is not about playing it safe. Every day men and women put their lives on the line because they believe in something. Whether their passion be their country, keeping people safe, doing the inconceivable, or getting involved, they are true to themselves. They are committed to their passion. Their beliefs.

Sean went off to war today. I don’t pretend he will be okay. I know the possibilities. The risks. I pray he comes back alive. I know even if he does, he will be a changed man. A man who will have seen and experienced things I can’t even imagine. He knows the Sean that boarded the plane will not be the Sean that returns. He  remains steadfast in his belief and passion for what he is doing. His chosen profession. I do not like war. However, I believe in my son. As much as the idea of my firstborn being in a war zone scares me, I am proud that he took the risk of going after what he believes in and is jumping off the edge.

Comments

  1. Now that you have written about leaving I should too, instead of keeping it bottled inside.

    ReplyDelete

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