A few weekends ago I had the incredible fortune to be able to attend my husband's 10 year military reunion. It was our first official outing without the baby-which was very difficult for this momma, but much needed in terms of hubby and wife reconnecting time. Those of you with newbies probably know exactly what I am talking about. All the new mommas out there know-it is hard to be your pre-baby self with the snap of a finger...sometimes it takes a push...and sometimes it takes a moment or two anyway from that precious babe to make you remember why you even had a child in the first place- because you loved each other and wanted a family. This was just a quick weekend getaway and believe me, on Sunday morning we were so ready to get back to our little man-especially since popa sent us a picture of him cheesing and showing off that cute wrinkled up nose and little teeth.
This was just supposed to be a reunion. Now, I don't know about you, but I attended my high school reunion, and it wasn't really that big of a deal. It was simple. So I assumed-dumb me, that this reunion would be that simple. It would just be a bunch of men and women getting together to reminisce, simple right? Or at least I thought it was that simple. What I learned this weekend was that it wasn't and isn't that simple- at least for military or x-military.
The truth as I observed it, showed a lot of divorced people or even people who were afraid of marriage. A few of them had children. Then, I heard my husband and some other of his military comrades refer to their "civilian" life, and it stopped me dead in my tracks. I have never thought of myself or even referred to myself as a civilian; however, that is just what these ex military men and women identify themselves as, at least those who did not make a career in the military or are now retired. My husband has told me before that it is a completely different life, and I never understood that. I never fully got it-until this weekend.
These people allowed me into their lives, even if it was just for a weekend. They accepted me, took me under their wing, even as I pushed their jäger -wait did I just say that-!!! Umm yea, I would be a liar to say that there were not drinks passed around (and FYI those shots passed to me- quietly appeared in front of someone else- "Oh, I thought I just did my shot?" "Nope, this one is yours" ;) ). Hey, at least I didn't feel like a dog doo bag that had been set on fire and stomped on- vivid I know. I knew we had to get up the next morning for something important....
So, on Saturday morning we went into Fort Stewart. They have this memorial they call
Warriors Walk. It is a pathway set with trees and stones- one for each person who was stationed at Fort Stewart who was killed in the line of duty. Unfortunately, my husband thought we were supposed to meet a half hour later than we actually were supposed to-that coupled with the fact that it was hard to drag him out of bed on account of the headache. It was almost eerie as we walked down the path. There was no one else there as we went down the path.
Someone once told me that one of the most sobering experiences was to be Arlington when there was no one else there. I have to agree. It was almost as if the birds didn't chirp, the wind didn't blow and as you walked down this pathway and read the names on the stones-it was like time stopped. The trees represented a life-a brother, a sister, a son, a daughter, a mother, a father. It caused you to think about the ones being left behind. It is very difficult to lose someone-to be the one left behind. My husband's unit had to experiencing being the ones left behind, as during this walk (when we finally caught up to the group) were reminiscing over 2 men that were a part of this particular group.
The hardest part for me was the fact that one of the soldiers killed in action had a wife, who was also part of this military group. My heart ached for her and her two very young sons as she had to interact with her friends, without her best friend-her husband who had been with her throughout it all. I found myself watching her and all though I didn't know her, I found myself wanting to go after her after she tried to talk to a guy at our table after dinner. I found myself wanting to go after her as she had to leave the room. She showed tremendous strength just being there-surrounded by her military comrades. But how hard it must have been to talk about the "old" days, as I am sure not a single memory did not have him in it.
On the last night of our trip, they had put together a presentation. There was a slideshow and two Colonels who spoke. I was really touched by this guy and what he had to say. As someone who holds a doctorate in leadership, I was fascinated by how he chose to lead. He caused a lot of tears in the room as he tried to explain to his unit his choices, the role he and others played, and things he did to try to keep them safe. He liked himself to a father and all of the military sitting in the room were his children. He talked about his regrets and how he still loses sleep over the loss of any of his men or women. He knew exactly how many letters he had to write to mothers and fathers and wives.
I have to admit, I always thought of military men (especially those of high ranking status) were, for lack of a better word, pompous, sticking out their proud peacock chest...blah blah. I didn't get that from this guy. So, when he told them about his book
Breaking Iraq I wanted my husband (like I had to twist his arm) to get it. He ended up running out of his books, so he got our address and mailed it to us.
I don't know if I have ever had an experience that caused me to reflect that deeply on the military before. I left worried about my husband and his possible resurfacing of PTSD due to all the memories being dredged back up. But more importantly I left we a better understanding of these people. Men and women who just wanted a better world, wanted to make a difference. Men and women who loved their country and was willing to pay the ultimate price for it.
It was on the grounds of Fort Stewart at the Warriors Walk and in the dinner hall that last night and seeing two grown men (one of which was my husband) sitting at our table having to wipe their eyes as their Colonel spoke about Iraq that I really saw for the first time
FREEDOM ISN'T FREE-EVEN IF THEY DON'T PAY WITH THEIR LIFE, THEY DO-
