This drizzly, foggy day…

I am uncertain as to why I’ve recently had a recurring memory from 28 years ago. Perhaps it is because it is the same time of year; perhaps it is the drizzly, foggy weather. The location, however,  is different. Now I am in McKinney, a mother in her 50's, winding down. Then I was in Galveston, a young woman in her 20's, gearing up and leaning in. 

I was working at UTMB in Galveston which was my first job after completing my master’s degree in Social Work.  I had relocated from Cincinnati to be nearer some family and to launch into my first “real” job.  My parents came to visit for a long weekend. We went to the Port of Galveston to site see. It was foggy and misting slightly so that everything was seen in a bit of a haze. I will never forget what we saw.  There was a flotilla of military vessels pulling out of the port carrying the machinery of war: tanks, hummers and the like.  I suspect they might have been carrying young soldiers as well.

I remember this image as if it was yesterday.  I furtively glanced over at my parents as they stared at this site. My parents and I never did speak of what we witnessed. I can’t imagine my parent’s feelings as my brother was serving in Marine Reconnaissance and had been in the Middle East for some time. 

It is difficult to put into words the feelings I had at that time.  It is 28 years later and there continues to be conflict in the Middle East.  If I were to wager, I would bet that it will still be going on when generations from now. People will stand at that port, watching those ships carrying military equipment and young soldiers across the ocean.  

My son will be entering the military after graduating from college in December.  He will most likely be working in psychological operations or something similar. I am quite certain he will be serving in the Middle East at some point.   I am proud of him for making the decision to serve our country.  I am equally proud of him for making the decision to continue our family legacy by doing so.  Every generation has served in the United States military since the Revolutionary War. This included my father, who served in the Army Air Corps in the Korean War.  He lost most of his hearing in his right ear. I am sure he witnessed things which most of us cannot imagine. Despite this,  I don’t recall him ever talking about what he saw or experienced there.   He was part of that stoic generation; that stoic and silent generation. They didn't discuss those things which were painful or images that may have haunted them. It just wasn't done.

The question is, "Do I support the choice my son is making?" The short answer is "yes".  Quite candidly, however, this would not have been my choice for his future. There is risk with anything a young person chooses to do. But there is risk, much more risk, for a young man who chooses to serve in the military in time of war. Here's the thing: I want to keep my son safe.  Keeping your child safe, no matter their age, is what a mother does. This is not reality though, and I realize it is not what I should do.  I know I cannot allow my fears to interfere with my son's dreams for his future. 

Here's the thing though: I am certain those ships will continue to carry the machinery of war. They will carry young men to fight on the other side of the world. I wander when this happens, will it be on a drizzly, foggy day?