When I told the man at the baggage counter that my husband was deployed, he immediately replied, “Thank you for your service.” I didn’t quite know how to respond, so I smiled uncomfortably and nodded, graciously trying to clarify that my husband was the one serving. When I think of the phrase “service to our country,” I can hear the bayonets and see the tattered flag waving valiantly in the breeze.
I conjure images of the wounded, the battered, the proud declaring victory on Yorktown battlefield. I picture my grandfather in a foxhole in Saipan watching bullets fly overhead in the pitch black sky, a long way from his bride in South Dakota. I imagine my other grandfather, writing letters to my grandmother from Germany and asking about his new baby (my mother), only five days old when he deployed. I imagine the steely resolve juxtaposed against trembling bottom lips of high school students, taking their places on the front lines in Korea, Vietnam and the Gulf.
I think of my husband and our friends who have served in peacetime and in wartime, in jungles and in deserts, and I am humbled and honored by their commitment to our country. The land of the free, because of the brave. But never would I think of what I do — loving a man in uniform — as service.
Until today.
Today, while getting our flags ready to line the park in front of our house in honor of Veterans Day, my daughter asked if there would be fireworks. Realizing the last time we performed this tradition was for the 4th of July, I did my best to explain to her that today we were honoring the sacrifices that so many men and women like her Daddy have made.
When she asked about the meaning of sacrifice, I tried my best to explain that it was “giving something up, or going without.” And on this day, we honor the people that do just that. With all the wisdom and excitement of a 3-year-old, she looked at me with those bright blue eyes and said, “I’m sacrificing! I’m going without my Daddy!” She was, and is, absolutely right.
On Veterans Day, I think it’s worth remembering the fortitude of those who give our heroes their strength, and recognizing that this too is a type of service. I think of the mothers who pace their kitchen floors, anxiously awaiting a phone call to say, “I’m O.K.” following news of an attack; the moms who kiss their sons at the airport praying that it won’t be the last time.
I think of the fathers. I wonder if they see the hair buns tucked below helmets and are transported back to a time when their little girls performed in recitals and twirled in their living rooms. I think of those dads, sending their innocent little girls, now courageous and incredible women, off to war.
I think of the siblings, whose graduations, weddings, promotions and so many milestones are missed.
I think of the children. I think of the tears shed at bedtime; the “promise me you’ll come homes.” I think of the paper chains, the countdown calendars, the missed birthdays, the holidays; big days and little days.
I think of the spouses. I think of the ones left behind, entrusted to keep it all together. I think of the ones who kiss the tears, console the mothers, reassure the fathers, keep in touch with the siblings, and do their very best to put one foot in front of the other, when their hearts are aching too. I think of the ones who welcome their babies into the world with proud new daddies watching an ocean away on Skype.
I think of those who bear the Gold Stars. I think of the three wives I watched clutching folded American flags at a memorial we attended just months ago. I think of the mothers, fathers, siblings, spouses, children and incredible men and women whose sacrifices have truly been ultimate. I think of the incredible community that continues to rally around us, the military families. The signs in the grocery store, the meals from the neighbors, and the man at the baggage counter. I know what I wish I had said to you then.
This Veterans Day, I want to say: Thank you.
T.T. Robinson is a proud Navy wife, writer and crisis management consultant — a skill that proves useful every day as the mother of two toddlers. She writes the Deployment Diary series, which will run Tuesdays on Motherlode.