It Is Hard When 'Life Goes On'

In November of 2014 I wrote of the pain that we felt when our son was taken away in a military bus to be taken to an airport and flown to the sight of his basic training. In that post I wrote, “This is the hardest thing his father and I have had to go through in all of his life. This is the time where your faith is tested, where you know that your faith in God is the only thing that keeps you going. You have to pray and believe that your son will be okay and that, with the Lord's help, he will get through this. With the Lord's help we will get through this.”

Now jump ahead 2 years. Our faith once again is being tested and we are going through another hard time in our life as a family. The training that he received while in the military is now being tested in a real life situation in some distant land.

On the day I knew that he would be taken to an airport to be flown to a place where his training may be tested, I cried. I cried a lot. I didn’t know how to really function. Again my heart and stomach were being ripped from my body. I was trying to put on a better face but to no avail. 

On that same day our church was hosting a get-together picnic in honor of some friends. In the morning I was doing alright but the closer the time came for everyone to gather together to eat and enjoy each other’s company I began to feel like I couldn’t breathe.  I had to leave, I had to go home and just be by myself. The truth is I was not ready for the 'life goes on' conversations and laughter that I knew was waiting there at the picnic.

I feel like I need to confess that since our son’s enlistment two years ago, I find myself not feeling compassion for mothers who lament of their sons or daughters leaving the nest for college or maybe even a summer camp. I find myself thinking so what, you can go pick them up anytime you want, you know they are on the soil of our country that is free, you know exactly where they are, you know that on the weekend they will be home back safely in your arms.

I expressed these feelings to the Preacher one day. He understood because he feels the pain of separation too, but he reminded me of how I felt when our son would go off to camp. He reminded me of how I felt the day we moved our son into his own college apartment. At every milestone there has been a sense of loss and the feeling that you are the only one having to deal with that loss.

We are all mother’s and our children are our lives and we each have to endure their leaving.   So to all of the mothers out there who are feeling the pain of a son or daughter inching their way, little by little, out of your nest, I apologize. I apologize if I have not seemed more sympathetic. I apologize for not understanding your pain. I apologize for not being better at offering my shoulder to cry on. I ask for your patience.

As we did two years ago, the Preacher and I ask for your prayers of safety for our son.  

We are praying for your sons and daughters too.

Love from the Preacher and I