Is it harder, when it’s your kid, or your husband?
A friend asked me that this evening. I was trying to explain it, how it’s not a matter of harder – it’s a matter of being different.
She said to me “loving my husband is a choice, loving my kids is …. i dunno….” I told her ” It just IS” And that is the difference. I had a military blogger tell a group at Milblog Conference that his wife would mourn his passing but could get another husband; but their son – he was impossible to replace. Bouhammer – you were so right.
Now that my husband is back in the Sand, and our son is safe at home in Denver, I remember how different it was when he was in Iraq. The calls he’d make just to talk, the emails, the call when they got the little Christmas tree I sent and everyone said thank you, the call when he told me the lemon drop got there – a 2lb fused lemon drop! My husband is my best friend, the man I’ve been married to for more than half my life; but my son is part of me. That little blond boy with the big smile and the missing front teeth, little Mr. Chickenpops (chicken pox) tucking his bear in (well, bear had it too…), and bravely setting off for school with his new backpack and lunch box… To think of him there, in any kind of danger, was almost impossible. I always thought no one else could understand, no one else could know. But I was wrong.
You know – those of you here. And we are part of a very special group, proud of our children – scared, proud and hoping every day that they are safe. I’m so proud to be one of you.