I wanted to fall apart right there at the airport, but something came over me. I gently grabbed my Marine son, Josey, by the chin and said, “Now you listen here… you come back to me alive and in one piece you understand?” For a brief moment he was my little boy again. His towering six foot six frame could not disguise his eyes filling with tears, lower lip quivering; he could only nod.
“Okay then,” I said. “I will talk to you soon.”
Surely this was the hardest thing I had ever done send my baby off to war. My two sons are United States Marines and last year both were deployed at the same time. My youngest, Josey, was the first to go to Iraq.
While home on his pre-deployment leave, I had tried to soak up and savor every moment with him. But now here we were at the Peoria, Illinois, airport. Before leaving America, he would return briefly to his base in California. My heart was breaking; I was so frightened of the unknown journey that laid ahead. I was silently pleaded with God to give me strength to be calm during the parting moments with my son.
We hugged one last time, then my husband Greg and I went up to the observation deck and watched his plane take off. I gazed into the sky long after it was out of sight then collapsed on a nearby bench and wept bitterly.
“Please don’t let this be the last time I saw my son alive,” I begged God.
For some mothers, it was.
For me, life began to be lived not one day at a time but rather one breath at a time. As Josey began the first leg of his journey, I began the first steps of my own through the valley of the shadow of death as I watched him fly off to war.
Father, Shepherd, help me trust in your presence today, even though fear threatens to overwhelm me.
“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” (Psalm 23:4)