started today. Taking my husband to the airport to send him to Bagdad for 6 months. I have to keep reminding myself it could be a lot worse some go 1 1/2 years are out walking the streets where they probably will get hurt and possibly die. What I am experiencing really makes me so grateful for all those military families who send their husbands/wives out to "the danger zone". There are just no words to describe their sacrifice. They are honorable families I love each of them. Their sacrifice is allowing my husband to be safer while there.
After we got most of our tears out, Brock blessed our home, and we headed out to get Brock's gun - he jokes that if anything REALLY happens he's going to take a REAL gun from an enlisted troop and fight to the death (officers get 9mm while enlisted troops get m16's). We had breakfast at Wildflower before making our way to the airport. Everyone told Brock to travel in his ABU's so he did but come to find out it was optional on this leg of the flight. I appreciated it though because people were all too accommodating, thanking him for his service, and were full of smiles. Even the pot smelling, yoga lover, obama follower came and talked to our kids not us but our kids, thanks lady.
We stayed to watch his plane take off which was exciting for the boys and strangely added some peace to me. Unfortunately immediately after Owen started crying for his dad to come back. Owen is not a quiet, nontheatrical crier but on the drive home he had the sweetest little whimper cry yet very emotional and he mustered up enough strength to stop crying and said "mom I understand that dad is going to Iraq for a long long time" I am sure he has heard me tell many people that I wasn't sure if he really understood all that was going on - clearly he does understand. I asked if he understood that daddy was going to be safe and come home to us and Owen confirmed. It is nice to know he knows the bad and the good.
