The Prism of Knowing
THOUGHTS OF A SOLDIER'S MOM IN A TIME OF WAR
But Christmas getting here faster this year just means that the day he will deploy will get here faster, too. Maybe I don't want Christmas not to come, but get here and not go. Just stay. I know in my head that I can't keep "that day" from coming, but I want time to slow down so that I have more time with him here. Here where he is safe. Here where no one is shooting at my precious man-child. Where he gets three squares a day and all the stuff in between... Where a cold drink of water is just steps away and the bed he sleeps in is soft and warm and bug free. Here where no one is trying to blow him up or propell a rocket through him or his vehicle. Here where he is but a phone call or quick plane ride away. Here where we -- I -- can touch him, hug him, laugh with him. Here. Not there.
It's not like one or more of our children haven't missed a Christmas at home now and then. Our Navy sons have been stationed away for Christmases, and our daughter has had commitments as an EMT (and now as a medical student) that have prevented her from being with us on Christmas. It is different when your loved one is in a war zone. It just is.
When this Christmas comes, it means it will be mere days until he is wisked away from us. If Christmas comes.. and then goes... his last Christmas with us for at least a year... next Christmas will be the first ever he won't wake in our home...
I think I hate Christmas. Maybe not this Christmas. Maybe I hate next Christmas. Maybe I'll take Grisham's advice and skip next Christmas. Maybe we'll simply reschedule next Christmas until he is home again.