As I was sitting in the stands at Matt's graduation Friday, I kept thinking, "He's loving this.  This is what he imagined as a kid playing army men."  It just gave me a feeling of peace for him, that he really is living his dream.  I only cried once, when the speaker spoke about a soldier making the ultimate sacrifice and that he had never really thought about the fact that the soldier's mother also made a mother's ultimate sacrifice.  So true.  Mothers and families.  Every loss devastates a family.


I have never been more proud of my son, though.  Watching my step-grandfather pin on his blue cord for Turning Blue was awesome.  It was like things had come full circle.  My own grandfather died while serving in WWII and so having my step-grandfather there was the next best thing.  Matt was very honored that "Paw Paw" did that for him. 


I'm so glad we were here to be a part of this with Matt.  The weekend has been wonderful.  I don't want to leave tomorrow.  Don't want to cry, but I probably will.  Hopefully, I'll be back in a few weeks to pin his wings after Airborne school.

Less than a week until graduation.  Matt is getting a commendation for most improved PT score and most squared away soldier.  His versatility is amazing to me.  He can be the artsy, creative musician with a mohawk, tattoos and piercings as well as the disciplined, driven firefighter and now soldier.  He was my most sensitive child.  When he had to be in daycare for several months after I went back to work, he was so stressed out by another little boy in the class who screamed for his mother every morning after she dropped him off.  It would never have entered my mind that he would be interested in firefighting like his father.  I didn't know he could handle an emergency situation in a calm, cool and collected way.  I think it's just that when there is something he wants, he learns what he needs to learn.  He'll do whatever it takes.  That's how he taught himself to play guitar, too.  Now if I could get him to write a song for his mother....


I have really been struggling with faith and fear in this situation.  They cannot live in the same heart and mind and I have felt fear really taking over lately.  I am a very organized, type A person who likes to know all possible scenarios so Ican be prepared for everything.  Of course, that's really unrealistic and is the sort of thing that will drive me absolutely crazy.  Today, I had the good fortune of being with a Mary Kay National Sales Director for a few hours of training and motivation.  She really spoke to my need to find peace with Matt's decision.  Philippians 4:8 Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy--think about such things.  As much as I want to be prepared for anything, I have to stop dwelling on bad possibilties and concentrate on being the good and supportive mom he needs.  She said we are not supposed to live in turmoil.  We should be living in peace and harmony, giving to others.  Just having that inner peace even when everything around us in in chaos.  Normally, I'm right there in chaos, too!

Well, they got their phones back, but only for use during personal time.  So I guess I won't be getting anymore letters.  Matt did send me a Mother's Day card and Chris got the mail before I did and saved it for me until Mother's Day.  I thought that was sweet of him.  Matt was also able to call that evening.  It's always great to hear his voice, although the cell reception there is terrible. 

Less than two weeks until graduation.  I feel like a mom with a new baby.  You just can't wait to hold them in your arms.  It's exciting and frightening at the same time.  The next step for him is Airborne school and that's kind of scary to think about.  It looks like more school after that.  The longer he's in school the better as far as I'm concerned. 

I got the nicest email from president of Blue Star Mothers.  Of course, it was sent to everyone, but it really touched me and so I wanted to share some of it.

Happy Mother’s Day to an amazing mother. Of course, you care for that son or daughter who has served in our military.  But your tenderness started long before that chapter of your life began. You showed your love when you bandaged their boo-boos; when you shared your faith at bedtime; when you joined the PTA or served as den mother for their scout troops.  You cooked those great holiday feasts, but more importantly, you cooked your signature blueberry pancakes on Saturday, packed their sack lunches for school, and made dinner daily.
When you became a blue star mother, you came up with the most creative items to pack in your child(ren)’s care packages—when your kids were in basic training, then tech school, and even when they went to war.  But you cared for more than just your own son, your own daughter.  You joined the Blue Star Mothers, so you could share your outstanding ideas for fundraisers and troop support, so no military kid had to feel alone while far from home.  All of those kids became your kids. Their pain was your pain. Their joy, yours.  You prayed for them in the middle of the night, when your heart was heavy, because motherhood overloaded you. And when they were deployed, you were deployed.  You cried with their families, and you rejoiced when they came home. (There you were, hugging every one of your kids’ fellow troops when they came back.) 

Talking to a friend last week, I was trying to explain how deeply I've been affected by my involvement with Blue Star Mothers.  This email described the feeling of caring so deeply for someone elses child as well as your own.  Their children are included in my prayers always.  As we go about our daily lives we tend to forget that there are thousands serving our country and risking their lives for us everyday.  Even when we don't agree with the politics of it all, we have to continue to remember them, pray for them and thank them for their service.

A little more

I have been really grateful for this time of basic training, though.  It has caused us to sit back and take things a little slower.  Instead of being able to call or send a text, we’ve had to take the time to write an actual letter and put it in the mail and then wait for a reply.  I’m really not looking forward to Matt having his phone back so much because I know he won’t write.   We’ve had some great written conversations.  I will miss that. 

 Matt is my middle child and eldest son.  He was a very sweet and sensitive child.  I always tell his girlfriends that he was the best little kid ever.  I could take him anywhere and he would behave like an angel.  When I would get dressed in the morning, he would sit on my bed watching me put on make up and I would ask him, "How do I look, Matthew?"  He would always say, "Mommy, you look bootiful."  And he would say, "Mommy, you my best fwend."  Such a wonderful little boy with the cutest dimple on his right cheek. 

He was always playing with those little, green army men.  I should have known. In fact, the week before he left for basic we went to the recruiting office to find out what he had left to do.  While we were there he had to reset his login for the army website and choose some security questions.  One was what did you want to be when you grew up or something.  He said, "Don't you remember, Mom?"  I said, "A Navy Seal?"  Yes that was one thing, but he really wanted to be a general.  Hmmmm....I don't know.  There were lots of things he wanted to be.  But he played with army men and he still has a drawer full of them. 

The present

On April 21, 2012 we saw Matt for the first time in 10 weeks.  His company finished 9 weeks of basic training and got a 36 hour pass before beginning AIT.  I can’t even describe the nervous anticipation I felt that morning as we waited for our briefing.  Then, standing outside the visitors’ center with my husband and two other children, watching his company march up by platoon, was awesome.  I wanted to laugh.  I wanted to cry.  I just wanted to hug him tight.  My son, Chris, and I had planned to run up and just jump on him, but I had a pulled tendon in my ankle and couldn’t run!  We were all so happy to have Matt with us again.  While his platoon was in formation, his expression was stern and stoic, but as soon as the drill sergeants released them to us he couldn’t help but smile. 

One thing that means a lot to me is to be able to worship together as a family, so attending Mass on Sunday together was the highlight of my weekend.  No one even complained when I woke them up.  No one begged to skip just this once.  That was nice.  Matt even commented afterwards that it was a nice church.  I was happy.

Now we are down to two weeks until his graduation from basic.  I know there is more school to follow.  First Airborne and then maybe Ranger Assessment Selection Program.  I just hope it all takes a long time.  One of my biggest fears is a Middle East deployment.  It's unnatural for a mother to send her child into harms way. 

People have said, "I don't know how you can do it.  You're so strong."  I am not.  I just don't have a choice.  Matt has made the choice and we are so very proud of him and we will continue to support him in anyway we can, but it wasn't our choice for him.   We just have to figure out how to live with it as best we can.

For me, a huge positive in the whole situation is meeting some of the most wonderful moms I've ever met, in Blue Star Mothers.  I drive an hour and a half to be with these incredible women once a month.  They are awe-inspiring.  Their stories have touched my heart.  They have made me laugh uproariously when all I could do before was cry.  They are my life savers. 

The beginning...

On March 23, 2011, my husband's birthday, we discovered that our 19 year-old, smart, talented, many-options-for-the-future son wanted to join the U.S. Army.  He didn't join right away.  He submitted himself to our desperate attempts to steer him in another direction, all the while knowing that he would eventually be a soldier. 

The day he joined and took his oath, in June, 2011 I think, he sent me a text saying it was official.  He had joined on the delayed entry program so he could be at his brother's Confirmation in October.   My response was, "I'm afraid."  His reply was, "So am I."  Makes me cry now just thinking about that moment.  I let him know that until the moment he left for basic training, I would do everything I could think of to convince him to change his mind and I would not put the "Proud Parent of a Soldier" sticker on my car until he reached the point of no return.  He accepted that.  I'm sure he knew there was nothing I could say or do that would change his mind.

Once he made the decision, he didn't waiver.  I asked him, "Is this something you are so passionate about that you would do it for free, like fire fighting?"  He said, "Mom, I just want to serve."  What could I really say to that?  I was torn between being enourmously proud of him and overwhelmed with fear for him.  That is still where I am today.

February 6, 2012 was the day of reckoning.  I woke him up that morning with a blessing.  "God bless Matt.  Fill his heart with your peace.  Help him to meet life's responsibilities and may he never be separated from you."  I couldn't finish it without crying.  Matt responded with a hug and "Mom, I'll be okay."  Later, at the recruiting office, I thought I would be okay, but at the moment he was leaving, I couldn't help but cry.  The lady who was taking him to his hotel asked if I wanted to go.  I did, but said no.  It was a really tough thing to do, letting my child go, knowing I wouldn't see him for at least 9 weeks and not knowing when I would hear from him again. 

I cried and cried and cried.  Everyday.  For weeks.  I friended people on Facebook I had nothing in common with and probably never would, except we each had a soldier in Alpha Company.  I was so excited when we got the first real phone call and the first letter.  I went crazy sending him things he said he needed.  I tried to write encouraging words to lift his morale when it was low and prayed constanly  for him everyday.  He made it through, week after week. 

When I got the letter from him saying that he had been to Mass and thought of me when they sang "On Eagles Wings,"  which is Psalm 91, I knew that if this is what it took to bring him back to his faith, then it's worth it.