Deployment

This is the latest bereavement notice sent out to the members of my Church. As I add onto my to-do list prior to deployment, I decided to quickly check my e-mail, and this is what greets me. I immediately start to break down and cry.

This isn’t my first rodeo; I’ve been deployed before. The same dangers accompanied me then, as they will now: mortar attacks sent by Taliban sprinkling the base, putting our heads between our legs as our plane nose dives toward theater and hope that we don’t get shot out of the sky. I was ready for the challenge. I anticipated the worst and I was tougher for it. But, I’m not the girl I was before. This time, I have something of my own to lose, besides my life.

The girl that deployed last time was a single, gung ho, ready for the world woman. Old enough to enlist and vote but barely old enough to drink. A whipper snapper, as they say, and had no problem seeking adventure. She saw deployments as a chance to say “I’ve been there, done that” and welcomed them willingly. That girl is now a Wife. That girl is now a Mother of 2. And that girl is now a very scared woman. She’s been covering her fear with business as of late; planning meals for when she’s gone, buying the kids more winter clothes so they’ll have things to grow in while she’s away, preparing her husband for the extra jobs he’ll have to endure as a temporary single parent. Anything to get her mind off the fact that she’s going to the most dangerous part of the world, and will be dropped right in the middle of an ongoing war. She’s going from housewife to warrior, and she’s having a rough time adjusting to the upcoming change.

I’m frightened. Yes, I’ve said it. It doesn’t help that my military job is one of the most dangerous ones around, and that if the terrorists were smart, they’d wipe out my shop first. But, that’s not what’s keeping me up at night. That’s not what causes me to cry for hours after everyone enters a deep slumber. I’m frightened that I may not make it back. That my son may grow up reminiscing over faded memories of us together. That my daughter will only know me from pictures and videos, and not from hugs and kisses.That my Husband will have to deal with life without his true love.Frightened of leaving him with the burden of keeping memories of mom fresh in our kids’ minds for the rest of his life. I’m frightened that the bereavement notice above could be mine in just a few short months.

So, my mind is at a stand-still. The closer I get to leaving, the harder it is to keep positive. As I see parents prepare for the holidays, and making plans for Christmas, I fall deeper into my emotions. I know it’s my turn to go. It’s my turn to serve. My turn to have heart break during the holidays in the “sandbox.” I just want to know that I’ll be coming back. I just want to come back.