I am a child of the 60s. My childhood was spent in a home where my mother's home was bombed by the Germans; my uncle pulled bodies out of the Pacific at Pearl Harbor and in the shadow of Vietnam. As a teen I heard songs like the Ballad of the Green Beret along with WAR and Country Joe and the Fish. I remember all the sorrow of the My Lai Massacre on TV. I wore a MIA bracelet and watched "my" soldier in April 1975 step off the plane after the war was lost. I remember the protests and Kent State. Tumultuous times and torn times.
Today is Veteran's Day 2017. In my day I've seen the draft ended and we have gone to an all volunteer military along with all that entails. But, what is on my mind today are the moms of soldiers and being a momma to sons and daughters of war and peace.
My brother and I are 13 years apart in age. Circumstances in life kept us from developing a close relationship like most siblings, but seared in my brain is the day Billy joined the Navy. He thought to sneak out with his duffle bag. I remember him coming down the back steps that came into the kitchen. I couldn't have been more than 4 years old, maybe 5, but Momma had a broom in her hand. Billy came down... and began to tell Mom that he had joined the Navy. I saw my mother beat my brother with a broom and scream bloody murder that he was NOT going to do that and what in the world was SHE going to do without him. And I well remember her crying at the table as he left anyway. I sat in the chair and watched. But I do remember her sobs. Her "baby" was leaving her. It was only a few weeks later that he came home, but he left again to have his own life. How things have changed ~ we were between "wars" at that point. They had too many recruits and if you wanted to come home you got an honorable discharge and that was that. Billy came home without even finishing his basic. Mom was one happy momma for a time :)
Fast forward 30 years or so. MY son was one of those gifted kids that fell through the cracks and became a class clown. For a while we agonized on whether he would even graduate or not and after an ultimatum of "job or college" he came home and told my Vet husband that he wanted him to sign so he could join the Army. Just like my own Mom, I was stunned. Army? That wasn't one of the choices. Things were beginning to churn a bit in the Middle East. Where would my baby go? Everybody was so "proud" of Justin for joining up... Nanny was thrilled even though Pappy didn't live to see it, I know He would have been thrilled too. My Vet uncle told me it would "do him good". Henry felt this was a great choice for Justin. All I felt was fear for him and for me. Things were pretty rough between my oldest son and I. We fought all the time and I was terrified that I would never see him again. (THAT is a long story!) So his joining the military left me just kind of hollow. But, there was a year to go and, well anything could happen in a year, right? So we got him through High School, graduating in June, 1992. And then, he was to go to Basic in August. I remember putting his Bible in his bag three times. THREE! And finally put it in with $$ in Psalms. And we had an understanding that I would NOT cry in front of him. Would NOT. So, with is little brother in the car with us we went to the Recruiters office for his bus. I didn't cry. I wasn't allowed to get out of the car. I kissed him goodbye and off he went. I drove to the end of the street and sobbed.
My boy was gone. Never again would he be a boy. Henry's last words to him would take him far... "Boy, keep your mouth shut and your nose clean and you will do fine.". And he obeyed. Justin became the man I had always hoped. Uncle Sam honed his good qualities and his good experiences and he became more than I had ever hoped. And that honing has continued to this day into a fine father and husband. But, as a mom..... I lost my boy. He became a man. Every mothers job is that she has the duty to turn her sons into men. But, it is never an easy turn for the mom.
Nine years later my Second Son would join the Brethren Volunteer Service. A non-combatant (a Brethren Boy for sure) he had chosen another Volunteer Army to work for peace rather than war. The day he left for Colorado I was another hot mess. This time it was to the airport. It was just after 9/11 and so airports had changed dramatically and no longer could you go to the gate with your loved one. I was near hysterics with his leaving. I had already "lost" one to adulthood. Looking back it sounds so stupid. Justin had left for the possibility of WAR and here was the baby leaving for PEACE and I was just has sobby as I had been the first time. There was something about the realization that when they leave your arms they leave as boys and come back as men. Never the same.
Mom Elsea was with me this time. And it was this time that mother to mother we began to understand one another more deeply, I guess. She grabbed my arm as Young Henry left for the gate and yanked me (literally) into the ladies room. With tears in her eyes she told me to "Stop it!" "But, he is my last baby, Mom". "At least he will likely come back", she said. "He won't die in some God-forsaken country. I watched my son leave for Vietnam and didn't know if I would ever see him alive again." It was at that moment I saw the terror of a young mother of a son gone to war. And just like me, her son was gone from her arms. Things would never be the same again.
And so it goes with motherhood. Being a mother means being a Veteran. If we raise our boys to be men ~ able to self-sustain; able to be good fathers and husbands ~ strong men, then it means we lose a part of them. If we lose them to war, if we lose them to life, in the end it is the same. They are lost to us and we mommas have done our jobs. And because of us, they can become good husbands and good wives and good mothers and fathers. Because of their strong mommas.
Thank you for your military service boys and girls and thank you good mommas. Thank you.
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