In a few days I will be making yet another trip to Ft. Campbell. The official reason is to be present for a memorial dedication. The Army honors their own in many ways. I remember touring the existing Memorials when we were there in may of 2008. I found great comfort in knowing that those who have fallen are remembered and honored. I found bittersweet comfort in knowing that my son’s name would someday join the names of so many honorable men and women.
The unofficial reason for my visit is much more joyous. I get to go hang out with my soldier son’s. The text and phone calls increase daily as they call and check to make sure Momma Ang is really coming. It does my heart good to know they are as excited for me to come as I am about going. So far the best stories are about how the NCOs and officers announcing I will be there and a chorus of “Yes we know” goes up and it causes confusion. I suppose it is odd that I keep in touch with these men as much as I do. But I love hearing about the new girlfriends. The new houses and cars. I find comfort in knowing that when things are not going so well that they know they can call me for advice and comfort. Few people understand how and why I love these men so very much. Even the ones I haven’t met yet. I am really looking forward to meeting the newbies who just got to the company. Yes they too are part of the family.
Not sure exactly what all I am in for when I get up there but at least now I know who my escort is likely to be and it made me smile. He is one I haven’t gotten to hug yet because he came back after the rest. And he is not quite sure what to make of his friend’s mom. I know how men hate dealing with tears and hysterics. I hope he realizes I am not like that. Oh the tears are there but they are mine. I know they will come at the memorial but the rest of my visit will be to celebrate my son, his friends and life.
I’m excited! It’s like getting ready to go to a family reunion.. in fact that is exactly what this trip is. Hmmm I may have to make it a yearly thing! nahhh Once a year is so not often enough for hugging my sons.