I recently found this in my email inbox (Thanks Joni)
As I awaken, I thank God for allowing me a few hours of sleep and the prayers for all my military family members begin. "For Sue's son injured last week, for Donna's son who weeps because he carries the horrors of the war; for the wife of my son's friend who now must raise their sons alone; for all those who have asked for prayers, and most especially for my own sons, that God be with them. AMEN".
The coffee pot is on and as I reach for the remote, I again , ask "God, please no casualties today". Alas, my sorrow, another Soldier has died today. I wonder, does he have a wife, brother's, sisters, I know he had a mom. I weep for his mother's empty arms, and silently and selfishly thank God, it could have been me!
Hubby is awake now, as he passes our military wall of pride, he stops, silent and calm, and lowers his head, no doubt saying his own special prayer. The flags go up, the dog is let out, and we share a hug. Breakfast is simple, and before I know it, he's off to work.
While the second cup of coffee sets in, I read the emails from Navy moms, Marine moms, and all my other Blue Star family members. Wow, others slept fairly well last night, only 378 emails this morning.
My phone rings and as I carefully look at the caller ID, it's only the veterinarian calling to reschedule the annual check up for the family dog. My heart begins to calm. I return to the emails, reading each one carefully, responding to those I can, and holding each and every one of my military family close to my heart!
Another call, it's okay, it's my daughter in law, how wonderful. An update on the granddaughter, and of course, my Marine. All is well! Now I hear from the Sailor's wife, what lovely daughters my sons have given me. They always seem to know when 'mom' needs a hug.
So the day has now officially begun. House cleaning, laundry, and a trip to the bank, oh yes, the post office too! Several care packages and letters to our young heros. One special package goes out today, a Comfort Book and quilt to a Gold Star Mom. Her son was killed last month, and she was not up for visitors, but she will receive respect and honor from us all. Wow, this book is heavier than most, over 250 messages in this one; poems, and words of comfort from families all over the country. The quilt is lovely, made by a few moms and sent with love. The Eagle, Globe and anchor that sits in the center, crisply sewn, I weep as my hand passes over this symbol of courage and pride.
Okay, the packages are sent, the letters written, all deposits made, now it's back home to start dinner. As I approach the entrance to my subdivision, I carefully scan the area for cars that appear "not to fit in". No strange vehicles, no black sedans, I continue towards my street. Again, my eyes strain to the end of the cul de sac to check for a vehicle in my drive way , it's empty, another good sign.
As I exit my car, I gaze up at the flags, waving ever so slowly in the wind. Old Glory is a wonderful flag, I am so proud, I am a American. I enter the house , the dog greeting me as if I'd been away for months, and now dash to answer the phone. It's a friend from back home, the solider that died today, was someone we both know. I weep, and immediately begin to prepare for what will be one of the most difficult days, the funeral for one of our American Heroes.
l locate the CAO information, make the initial call, and ask if my friend and her family are accepting calls. I make that call, and together we weep for our loss. "He'll be here in two days, and they say I can't see him. How can I let them bury him, and I not see his sweet face one more time?" We pray together, and I let her know that I will be at the service and funeral and I am always here as they need me.
As I make the necessary arrangements to travel, I order the Gold Star Banner, as her Blue Star has now turned Gold, I wonder how I can make it through another funeral, another loss, and this one so close. I can, I'm a military mother, and we're strong! We moms are made of tough stuff, but losing a child is not the way life should be for us.
Hubby is now home, and I must tell him. We cry together, and as we each look into the faces of our sons pictures, we both selfishly pray, "Thank you God, it wasn't me today." Dinner is light, neither of us can eat much, but life does go on. I'm off to my Blue Star Mothers meeting; I must tell my sisters they lost a son.
The day is done, and as I lay my head upon my pillow, prayers filling my heart, my final prayer is, "Lord, thank you for allowing me one more day as a Blue Star Mother. I pray that my stars never turn to Gold. Amen"
Andria M. Mocek
Two Star Blue Star Mother
HM2 Jonathan, US Navy
Cpl Gabriel, USMC