The Reluctant Patriot

E and I spent first part of our day at a military homecoming. We helped to welcome home troops returning from various parts of the Middle East. A couple hundred of highly excited spouses, parents, children, and friends anxiously awaiting the plane to land surrounded us. One family caught my attention. It was a young mom in her early to mid 20’s with a 3-year-old girl and a 4-5 month old baby boy. She looked so tired and like she was about to burst into tears at any moment. She reminded me a lot of myself.

I remembered being in that situation almost 5 ½ years ago. Dani was 6 months old when E came home from his first deployment after 9/11. I remember I was desperate when he was gone. I had our brand new baby, and though I was fully capable, it was hard taking care of her by myself for 3 months. I wanted my husband with me for those middle of the night feedings and diaper changes. I wanted him to be at home so that I could get an hour to go grocery shopping instead of making my schedule around breastfeeding. I missed him terribly for companionship, and for contact. When the day came for him to get home, I did not put much faith in that he would actually get off the plane. There were some scheduling conflicts with other people and space available on the flight if my memory serves me. It was cold, a few days after New Years. There were hundreds of people crammed into a small welcoming room and more milling around outside.

I remember tearing up when the plane landed. I studied each soldier as they stepped off the plane that was probably ¼ mile from where the crowd was blockaded. I didn’t see him. I was afraid that I wouldn’t recognize him. I spotted the shop chief and he asked if I had seen E yet. No. He told me to try to go inside. Yeah, through the hundred people stuffed in the doorway. I had Dani tucked into my jacket and was about to go in the door and I found myself in a fierce hug. E had found me. I didn’t want him to let go, but he was squishing Dani. He didn’t know that she was in my jacket. We had to find a place to sit down and re-believe that we were actually seeing each other.

I don’t really like homecomings because they bring those feeling of despair, fear, and loneliness back to me in tidal waves of emotion. I also have a hard time being around people calling troops their ‘Hero’, and they are preserving our country, sacrificing their lives. That one really gets me. I guess you could call me a reluctant patriot. I fully support our troops. My husband is one and so are most of my friends. I just cannot get behind the purpose that they are ‘sacrificing’ their lives and precious irretrievable time with their families. I get angry because when will it really ever end? One of the commanders made a short speech today about it ‘truly being Independence Day’. I say, it was a perfect opportunity to drive home the propaganda that our leaders are trying to pass off. People are so much more likely to go along with your ideas when they are devastated and broken emotionally.