LOVE IS LETTING GO

Christine Deane

Yes, my son is in the service. But I don’t think I want to write about it. 

And it’s not that my story is tragic. It’s the same as all the other moms across the nation, across the world.

I’m just not comfortable writing about it. My feelings. Personal stories. I was really never much of a journaler. Never felt the need. 

This level of self-disclosure in writing, to me, feels even more intimate than speaking it. Because once it’s in writing, it makes it real. Forever. Eternal. And it’s more than I want to think about. And I can’t even write it without crying.

But someone has to share the story from the other side. The story of the moms and dads and grandparents and sisters and brothers and cousins and all those who are left behind when our loved ones serve this great country of ours. And this is my story…

I’ll never forget when my airman received his first orders. He requested to go to Japan, and they approved it. A week after tech school, I was talking to him on the phone and he said, “Everyone seems to be leaving slowly. I’ll probably be here for a while.”

Less than 48 hours later, he was calling me to tell me that he finally got his orders and was heading out. He would be leaving within 24 hours. 

I heard the enthusiasm in his voice and how excited he was about going to his first duty station. I wanted to cry, but I knew what my son needed was for me to be happy for him. That’s why I smiled through my tears, and I said what he needed to hear. 

“You’re going to do great! What a grand adventure you’re going on. I am so proud of you! Be sure to see the world while you’re young and dumb and before you settle down and start a family.” We laughed…

Inside, I was hurting so bad because there was no time to plan a trip to go see him one last time.

One day he was stateside, and then he was gone. Up until that time, I don’t think I realized what that meant.

I cried for a week straight. I think I was in shock. Everything made me cry. I would just randomly burst into tears for no reason.

This is my little boy. My little angel. One that I raised from the womb and kept safe. I knew he was going to be in harm’s way, and it goes against everything in a mother’s instinct to step back, and just let it happen.

As a parent, you are so proud. And you’re so scared. And you miss them. And there’s nothing you can do about any of it. 

Nowadays, I say that I gave my oldest son to his wife, and I gave my youngest son to the government. There’s a lot of times I don’t feel like I have any kids at all.

But that’s what you do when you raise boys. You raise them to be independent and strong. And there are days that I think that I was a little too good at my job of being a mom. Because it’s so hard to let go and let little boys grow up to be real men.

I couldn’t be more proud of my youngest son for choosing to serve our country, but that doesn’t make the holidays any less lonely. It doesn’t make it any easier.

My heart breaks, but that’s what we do. We raise them for export. We hope that we have guided them to be good people, contributing members of society, with big hearts of gold. I know that I did my job right because my son joined the Air Force. 

Love you, son, and no matter how far away you are, you’re always in my thoughts, my prayers, and my heart.