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Reflections of a Soldier’s Mom

Tuesday December 11, 2007

By Ann Kensek

    My oldest son, Drew, is in Iraq. By fits and starts I am getting used to this- but like most things that take “getting used to”, I will never be wholly comfortable with it. Rather, acceptance arrives on the wings of will power and out of love for our son, who heard a call to serve his country through the military

  Like millions loved ones of those in the service have done for all of history, we wait for our soldier to come home. Time was when I’d joke that he is probably safer in Iraq than driving the back roads of Vermont, as if dark humor could warm the chilly hole in my heart- the place where fear seeks an opening, a passage to turn the hope and aching pride I feel into despair. I banish from my mind the vision of the car you never want to have pull into the driveway, the knock you never want to hear at the door, the grim face that brings unbearable news. Some days I cry, grieving what could happen, then, chiding myself, I give thanks that he is safe so far- removed from the fighting on a base “in the middle of nowhere”. Days go by, weeks, months. Time’s gentle passage brings his homecoming closer.

   When Drew was six, we volunteered at the Ronald McDonald House. He played with siblings of hospitalized children and helped them feel at home. When we were at the park we’d help homeless people by giving them gloves or hats. Once, we had to visit the food shelf and after that we always made sure to leave food in the donation bin at the grocery store. At night we’d go to Weston Priory to “sing with the monks” at Compline. We used every opportunity available to teach him to be compassionate, to serve others, and to seek meaning in his life. We never let him play with guns. He is a deep, reflective and sensitive person by nature and I was sure, in my limited way, he’d choose a career in the helping professions.

   On an April afternoon in his senior year of high school, he came home and told us he was meeting with a recruiter with the intent of joining the Army. He was certain of what he wanted, and would not be dissuaded. Several tearful conversations later, I asked him why. Drew said, “I want to help people, Mom. I want to do something meaningful. I want to make a difference.”

   People have asked me how we could “let” him join the military. My reply is, how could we not let him? We strive to give our children what is best of ourselves, in hopes that they will be better than we are. What a person does with what they learn along the way is what makes each one of us unique. It is our job as parents to step aside and let our sons and daughters go when it is time, loving and blessing the road they travel.

   Drew has done well, having been honored on several occasions by peers and officers alike. A helicopter crew chief, he enjoys the work he does. When I gush my thanks and pride he says, “Mom, I’m just a guy doing a job.” Then he changes the subject- and I feel even more proud.

   To all those who serve and have served, blessed be your honor, your integrity and spirit, your willingness to make the ultimate sacrifice to better the lives of others. We wait, restlessly, prayerfully for your safe return, uneasy in the knowledge that those prayers will be answered for some, but not for all- at least not in a way that we can comprehend. During this season of Holy Days you and your families are especially in our hearts.

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