Saying goodbye can’t be easy.

I can’t even imagine what it would feel like to have to kiss my son goodbye and watch him leave to go fight a war. That man, who was once your little baby. The little baby you struggled for hours and hours to give birth to, but forgot the pain as soon as you saw his beautiful face, sweet little finger and toes, and felt his smooth, new skin. The baby you would wake up with every three hours every night and hold to your breast to give him the nourishment he needed to live and to stare at him in amazement while he slept. The baby that provided you years of joy, laughter, tears and wonderful memories as you watched him grow.
I can’t imagine the fear, every time you hear of a battle, or of a soldier captured or shot and wondering if it was your baby. Not knowing if they’re sick or injured or scared. And not being able to tell them how much you love them at that very moment when they need to hear it most.
I can’t even imagine having to say goodbye not knowing if I’d ever see my baby again.
I can’t even imagine the pride I would feel that my baby grew up to be so loyal to the country that afforded him and his family the opportunities to be whatever they wanted to be, to say whatever they wanted to say, to love whom ever they wanted to love.
My heart goes out to the mothers who had to kiss their babies goodbye and who sit in fear and worry every minute of everyday, yet whom I am sure beams with pride every second of everyday at the brave and selfless child they have raised.