Did She Know

Did She Know …

It has become abundantly clear that the topics for my blogs are being given to me. Sometimes the timing of their arrival is less than ideal; however, since for this one, I kept receiving more and more information while I was driving. Various blog ideas were falling over themselves in an attempt to make me aware of them. I was left to wonder whether I needed to write about the topics as a release, or whether others needed to hear the information. This time at least, I’m sure it’s a bit of both as I am writing from a mother’s perspective about her daughter’s 7 and a half-month tour of duty in Afghanistan.

My daughter and her fellow soldiers began their training a full year in advance. Throughout that time, her departure date always seemed to be far off in the distance. The months passed and it was once again late fall and she was to leave in a matter of days. But maybe as a mom, just maybe, I wasn’t ready to have my child spend months in a war-torn country, where soldiers of all nationalities were being killed. She’d be safe everyone said, she wouldn’t be where the fighting was, but they forgot to mention that the safe bases were also being bombed.

The day of her departure arrived and way to soon she was off on her journey. A final hug, lots of tears and a huge lump in the throat were prevalent as we waved goodbye to each other. She was gone and, in my heart, I held equal parts of pride and a Mom’s prayer that she would be safe. To me, individuals who serve in the military are working to ensure that everyone, everywhere, has the freedom of choice in their life. That knowledge was so precious and I held that kernel close to me the whole time she was gone. She needed to do this and I needed to support her in her life choices.

While she was overseas, my thoughts often took me back to various moments and milestones in her life. I remembered the first time I held her when I had no idea who she would become and where life would take her. I do know; however, that with her birth my life irrevocably changed forever. One moment I was just me, the person I knew myself to be and the next, I was a Mom. I had gone through a doorway that was now forever closed and there was no going back regardless of what transpired in my life.

Like millions of women before me, as I held my child for the first time, I pledged to protect her and keep her safe. This child of mine was a part of me for she carried my blood and the blood of our ancestors in her veins. And as she grew, life would transpire to make her the person she is today.

Now here I was years later, waiting for her to come home from a tour of duty in a country riddled with strife where hunger and death were regular occurrences. We who waited at home went on with our lives with relatively few disruptions. When we ran out of food, we went shopping; when we wanted company, we got together with family or friends; when we were tired, we went to sleep in our own beds.
Not so the soldiers serving overseas – they worked twelve hours a day, seven days a week – every week, for months. While she was overseas, I wondered if she really knew how proud I was of her and the other soldiers who served. For all of them left their families and the comfort of their homes, to make a difference in the lives of so many others in a country far removed from Canada. And they went, knowing that some would not come home to their own families. Yet they willingly got onto the planes – for something inside of them, whether they knew it or not, drove them to make a difference in the lives of others.

My daughter was never far from my thoughts and at times I would wonder:

– Did she know I would think of her on Friday nights when I turned off my alarm so I could sleep in on Saturday mornings; knowing she couldn’t?
– Did she know I would think of her during holidays knowing I was getting time off while she was saying goodbye to a fellow soldier whose body was coming back home to Canada?
– Did she know I would think of her as I chose what to wear that day; knowing she was always in uniform and couldn’t chose?
– Did she know I would think of her when I took a clean hot shower; knowing she couldn’t?
– Did she know I would think of her as I spent time doing whatever I wanted; knowing she couldn’t?

The days, the weeks, the months passed and some days I came home from work to find a message on my machine letting me know she had called, she was alright and missing me. That made my day! And on some occasions because of the different time zones, she would stay up really late in order to call when she knew I would be home so we could talk. How I treasured those calls.

I soon realized that it is only when they are away from us that we realize the preciousness of being able to connect with someone we love. Along with our phone calls and emails, we went back to something rarely done now, we wrote letters. And in her first letter to me, she wrote a line that touched my heart for she said, “I decided to write you a letter just so you know that I took the time to think of nothing but you.”

And finally, one day I arrived home to a message that said she was on her way back to Canada. She had left Afghanistan and was in a hotel room that had a real bed and clean hot and cold running water. It was her group’s turn to spend a few days readjusting to life without bombs and fighting. She sounded so tired and exhilarated all at the same time, but her tone and the words that really struck a chord with me, was when she said, “I made it out.” At last, after over seven months of waiting, in a matter of days my daughter was going to be home.

Her arrival date and time kept changing but finally it was set and stayed. Her flight would come in at zero dark hundred hours and my alarm was set, ready to wake me. Ironically, it was the phone that woke me well before my alarm was to go off. It was her calling to let me know her flight had arrived early and she was at the airport waiting to go through customs.

Her younger sister and I headed to the base to pick her up and as we got closer, all we could see were police cars with flashing lights turning in front of us. Fearing there had been a huge accident, we were relieved to see a military bus coming towards us and we realized the soldiers were just arriving. Parking the car, we ran past the police barricade toward the parking lot as bus after bus turned in. Having no idea which one she was on, I kept waving my arm until all of them were on the base. Then we headed to where all the soldiers were gathering. She had been on the first bus and as we hugged, the full reality hit me. My daughter was home and she was safe. Later she told me, that it was when she saw me running towards the buses that her tears started.

She was home, my daughter was finally home!

~BarbCoble