Parents of the deployed are at war, too
It once was called "The Forgotten War," but for many North Texas residents, the conflict in Afghanistan has never been far from their minds.
Posted Sunday, Jan. 10, 2010
For some, it is so close that it propels them into their own internal war fought on a daily basis. They, too, are in the thick of the battle, from the time they awake until they lay down for another night of fitful sleep.
These are the parents of the deployed military.
I am a mother of an infantry Marine who fought in Iraq during the 2007 "surge" and in Afghanistan last year as the war was heating up again.
My son left for boot camp in 2005 with three other buddies right after their graduation from Birdville High School. There has been a certain frustration ever since that the average civilian doesn’t understand what the families of the deployed go through, regardless of how one may feel about the war in general.
While our son was deployed, a typical day began with a slightly sick, anxious feeling. Thoughts fired as rapidly as the machine gun our son might have used while we slept during his day half-way around the world: Will he be able to get to a satellite phone to call today? Is he warm enough in those tents in the mountains of southern Afghanistan? Does he have enough to eat? Is he alive? Will the Marines come to our door today?
Feet are not the first part of the body to hit the floor each morning. There is a bed-to-knees slither as parents all across this area beg God to protect their sons and daughters through another day of war. Each day’s motivation is the responsibility of praying that our child comes home safe and whole, knowing too well that all do not.
As positive and strong as parents try to be when a child is deployed, the unwelcome "what-ifs" can’t be silenced. They are the thoughts all parents of the deployed have but don’t speak aloud for fear they will take too real a shape. They are the echoes that haunt each day and zap its beauty.
When a son is on the front lines, the most exquisite cuisine loses its flavor, movies are no longer exciting, conversations of pettiness can’t be stomached, and the company of others going through the same experience is the only solace. Connections are made locally and all around the country with other parents of deployed sons. Their sons become ours.
I realized through this time that, as much as I thought no one loved their son as much as I love mine, other parents love and beg and hope just as I do. Life and plans are put on hold when a child is fighting a war. Everything exists around counting down the months, the weeks and finally, oh, finally, the days before he returns. Excitement comes only from knowing and hoping each new day brings time closer to seeing him again.
Ironically, through all of the agony, true joy is found.
When one is parched deep in a valley, the minutest source of refreshment is quenching to the soul. The phone call after 21 agonizing days of "not knowing" would cause weeping in thankfulness. Each day I rounded the corner to our home and didn’t see an unfamiliar car parked in front of the house was a great day. Little acts of kindness from strangers and friends took on a whole new perspective of gratitude.
And who has words to describe that day when parents stand eagerly waiting for their son to get off the bus? To hold him in their arms again after months of suffering the torture of the "unknown" is joy complete.
Cheryl Eager of North Richland Hills is a member of the 2010 Star-Telegram Community Columnist Panel. ceager4@gmail.com