Out of the mouth of babes

As the kids get older, I know I will have to answer more questions about what dad does and that it is dangerous. That unlike in the movies, the good guys can get hurt too. The world isn't always safe and it is the responsibility of good men to ensure that safety is restored. After all, all that is needed for evil to flourish is for good men to do nothing.

But this doesn't change that I still have no way to really tell them about this. I don't want to face the idea, and I certainly don't want them to have to face the idea that one day daddy could get on a plane and that would be the last time we saw him. Just typing that makes me well up with tears.


Currently there are 436 blooming red buds on our Warrior walk. Given the 10s of 1000s of soldiers that have deployed from Ft. Stewart, this is a very small fraction. It seems almost a manageable loss. Until I remember that each tree is watered by the tears of mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, friends, wives, and children. Then the price seems astronomical.

How to balance the need to go to war (while maybe not this war, there is a need for good men to still do something to prevent evil), with the individual sacrifice. It is easy to say flippantly that these soldiers knew what they were signing up for. It is hard to use those words to comfort the grieving. Every military wife has had the the thought at a funeral, or service, or dedication... "Dear Lord, please don't ever let it be my husband." You feel guilty for saying it, but still you repeat it over and over and over as you try to wish away the evil.

When Rob is deployed, this is the terrible burden I carry. I try not to share that with my children. I don't want them to ever think about it. I want them to maintain that the world is safe, people are mostly good, and at the end of the show the good guy wins and comes home to have dinner. But alas, that isn't our world.

Today was the first installment of what I believe will be a very long conversation.

Anthony: "Look at all the pretty trees mom. Why are there so many?"
Me: "They each represent a soldier killed in war."
A: "A soldier like daddy." (by which he usually means a good guy soldier not a bad guy soldier)
Me: "Yes."

Long Pause

A: "Those sure are pretty trees (red buds in full bloom). But I wish there weren't so many."
Me: "Yeah, me too"

I am almost in tears at this point but am thinking I can pull it together before we have to get out of the car. I was wrong.

Longer Pause, maybe 5 minutes

A: "Maybe we could plant trees for the soldiers still alive. Then they would be happy trees and not sad trees."

He is so smart! Later he told me that he wants to plant some palm trees for dad because daddy likes palm trees (very true statement). But he did concede that other kids could plant other kinds of trees if their dad didn't like palm trees.

A friend reminded me that many palm varieties have deep roots to tap the water reserves well out of reach of other plant. Their strong roots allow them to weather tough storms. But they are often flexible enough to bend so they don't break under pressure. Yes, I think a palm tree would be the perfect tree for us to plant.