Devastation Tempered by Kindness

There is never a good time for your soldier to deploy. However, sent before a war has even started, soldiers as well as parents are in unfamiliar territory, as neither one know what to expect.

Tanner had returned to Georgia in January, and we both knew it was merely a matter of time before he would leave for Iraq. His last phone call came at 3:30 in the afternoon, while I was at work…not the best location for emotional, heart-wrenching news. I locked myself in my office, spoke to my son for about thirty minutes, and kept my composure until the final “I Love You.” The last hour of work and the drive home, are a blur.

I vaguely remember notifying friends and family that Tanner was on his way to a war that had yet to begin. An hour away from any family members, I thank God I had Lisa, my next-door neighbor, who lent her shoulders as a receptacle for my tears.

After a sleepless night, surrounded by two shaking dogs unaccustomed to hearing me cry, I had no choice but to go to work. I wanted nothing more than to crawl back in bed, but with the owner on vacation, I was in charge. I forced myself to go to work. Several times I found I had to excuse myself, to push my emotions back inside.

On the drive home, the song, “Have You Forgotten?” by Daryl Worley came on the radio. For those of you not familiar with the song, its words reflect the events of 9/11. I drove the last 3 miles through blinding tears and body wrenching sobs…simply trying to keep my car in its own lane. As I turned the corner of my street, I saw a huge yellow ribbon tied to the tree in front of my house. Lisa had put it there for Tanner, and all our Military, who were on their way to a world we cannot even imagine.

Never in my life, had I been the recipient of such an act of kindness. Never had I seen such a strong, visual display of comfort, of understanding, of support. Never will I forget the woman, who by her thoughtful deed, managed to touch me so deep down inside, in a place I never knew existed.

I’m not certain I would have survived my son’s first deployment if it hadn’t been for Lisa. She sent supper over several times a week, and checked on me daily. On the evening of March 19, 2003, Lisa came over to watch the Presidential Address to the Nation with me, neither of us prepared for what we would hear…the war had begun; the first bomb dropped on Baghdad.

Lisa has children of her own, and only another parent could understand the devastation, the utter helplessness I felt. Words do not exist to describe the physical pain or emotional upheaval my body was experiencing. I felt that if Lisa let go of me, my entire being would shatter as glass dropped from the tallest of buildings.

My phone had gone silent. Friends and family did not know what to say, how to react.

For six weeks until Tanner called, the kindness of a neighbor met my emotional and nutritional needs, and maintained my sanity. I had no online sites for support, no place to vent, to rant, to cry, to scream, to plead for help. Lisa alone convinced me that Tanner was not under every bomb that landed, and that he would survive. I will always be grateful to her, more than words could ever express.

© 2007

arolittlebit1@aol.com