Day Two: Making Plans

A night's sleep always helps. This morning, I assessed what Derek told me last night--a promotion and a job at brigade headquarters in Iraq. It could be worse. He'll go over as an E-8 or Master Sergeant (I think, not understanding rank very well). That means, I believe, an administrative position which I am sure he'll hate.

Next step: he went for physical and so forth today. He hasn't told his four children yet--he'll do that tomorrow. As a divorced Dad, it's difficult to figure out when is the best time. He's been fortunate in that he has his children at least once a week, but of course that makes goodbyes all the harder.

And then the next step: figuring out who will care for his home, his dog, his vehicles, his bills. Most of the it my husband and I will do, but he has several acres that will need mowing. Can we do that in addition to our own pretty extensive mowing? And the dog--will our dogs allow him to stay? They're very territorial. Should the electricity and gas be turned off? What to do with his trucks and van?

The bills are easy--I did those last time he was gone. Broken hearts of children who don't understand the war or the call to duty? That one will be much harder to handle. I remember how it was before; they were younger then. What will it be like for Jared, almost 16 and usually living with his Dad, to suddenly not have that outlet?

So we prepare. There is no sense in railing against it. It will be, and that's all there is to it. One thing I do not do is cry in front of my solider sons. Soldiers need the support of their families, and whatever my personal political opinions, my sons will have my support. They will know their mother is proud of them for doing what they have been asked to do by their country.

Even when I disgree at every level with what my country asks of my sons, I will stand by them and behind them.