A Mother's Heart in War. . .6-7-04. . .Day One

The Friday entries of "The Powder Room" are currently from a journal which I started when we found out our son was going to be deployed with the United States Marine Corps to Iraq. The journal was not written with the intention that it would ever be read by anyone else, much less published in any way. There are feelings in the journal that are deep and true and I wasn't sure at first I wanted to share them. But there are many sons and daughters still serving in our armed forces and I think it might be good to share "a mother's heart" with you what those other mothers may be facing. The entries are shared as a tribute to my son and his service to our country, and to all those sons and daughters who continue to willingly place themselves in harm's way for the protection and preservation of liberty.


June 7, 2004 Day One

It was a very hard day. the morning started with distracting myself from what was to happen in the afternoon. It seemed as if Noah would never return from the Unit, but I didn't mind the delay too much -- it kept that inevitable moment at bay longer. then, more abruptly than I thought it should happen, the moment was upon us. We gathered on the carport while Glen prayer -- I had to concentrate on other things to keep from turning into a mass of tears. Then Em and I and the Glen said goodbye first, so that Aimee and Noah could have time alone.

Once again eloquence neglected me. I had such a fragile grasp on control, I could only manage to say, "I love you son." After a quick kiss on the cheek, I walked away and retreated to the dark quiet of my bedroom and burst into tears. I knew that sometime while I was in there, he drove away and not watching that truck leave seemed much more difficult than watching the van pull away toward Parris Island three years earlier.

Overall, the emotions of the day were much harder than I had imagined but deep within a quiet peace prevailed. It is a strange combination, this deep intense emotion in the feelings and the quiet calm in the Spirit.

Then came the smile in tanglible form. . .a knock on the door and then Glen handed me a beautiful arrangement of flowers. How surprised I was to read the card:

Thinking of You

Anita Sonja Sheila Nycole

The thoughtfulness of friends at work brought more tears, but grateful ones. Like a blanket on a cold day, their love wrapped around me and warmed my aching soul.

It reminded me of Aimee, after I had said goodbye to Noah and had come into the house, she hugged me and said, "Don't cry, he'll be okay." And I had thought I would be comforting her!

I was a hard day, a very hard day, but in some respects, a very good day, too.