Navy Mom
"The day I found out that my mom had to register as a stand-by reserve
for the war in Afghanistan, I nearly lost my mind. "
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to this Commentary!
By Pamela Childers
 The day
I found out that my mom had to call a local recruiter and register as a stand-by
reserve for the war in Afghanistan, I nearly lost my mind. All kinds of thoughts
went through my head. I didn't know what to do.
All my life it's always just been my mom and me, and if I were to lose her,
it would tear my world apart. Before, I was never able to understand how people
felt when they had a father, cousin or uncle go off to war. Now it's my turn
to find out what it's like, and I am scared and confused.
It's not very common for a woman to go off to war, so I don't have anyone I
can relate to, or give me advice on how to deal with my situation. I want to
tell my mom how I feel so she can take care of me like she always has, but she
is already stressed out from the idea of having to go to war. I feel sorry for
her; she is stuck being a single parent, paying bills, and on top of it all,
having to worry about risking her life in battle.
I remember when I was four years old, and my mom went away to the navy. When
she left she made sure I was old enough to know who she was. She didn't want
to leave and have a daughter growing up without any idea of who her mom was.
It was really hard for me because everywhere I went I saw people with their
moms and it made me miss her. I didn't have a mom to run to when I fell and
hurt myself or to tuck me in at night.
Now that I'm older and I have an even closer relationship with her I know it
would be harder for me to let her go. Even the simple things would be so much
harder, like waking up in the morning and eating breakfast without her there
to say good morning and kiss me on the cheek. I still don't know just how it
feels to have a loved one leave for war, but I'm getting closer to finding out.
If it happens, I know I won't be able to accept it, and I'm not prepared for
it.
For Youth Radio, I'm Pamela Childers.
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