Kansas!

We just got back, last night, from a trip to Kansas to see our son and his wife before he deploys for his second combat deployment.  As there are 12 hours of NOTHING between Houston and Kansas, I spent great chunks of time thinking about this blog,about what I was going to write.  I assumed I’d write something about being a mom sending her son off into combat.  I mean, it seems so – timely –seeing as how I am a mom, sending her son off into combat.  But then I realized there wasn’t really anything to say.  Of course, I’m scared for him and I will miss him more than I can contemplate.  I know this will be a trial for him as well as for his wife, who is facing the next 8-12 months without him after only a year of marriage.  But what else is there to say?  He’s doing what he loves, what he’s trained for, what he wants to do. He is part of the best military force in the world, and he is highly trained and highly qualified.  He is surrounded in prayer and love and he is doing what he has to do, what he’s called to do.  I have other friends who have children who are in places (some in physical places, some in mental places) where they are in harm (harm from others, harm from circumstances, harm from themselves, harm from situations) and we moms commiserate together, pray together, laugh together … but in the end, there isn’t really anything I can say that hasn’t been said a million times before by millions of other mothers.  He knows I love him, am proud of him, am praying for him.  His wife knows I love her, am proud of her and am praying for her and that if she needs me, needs ANYTHING, I will jump in the car and be by her side in 12 hours. 

Then I tormented my long-suffering husband by playing the soundtrack from Oklahoma! as we drove thru the great state of Oklahoma.

I thought I’d go light-hearted and talk about the disappointment of turkey pepperoni (you ain’t fooling anyone.  It’s not good) or the overwhelming wonderfulness of Buc-ee’s cinnamon rolls when they’re fresh out of the oven (to die for, absolutely delicious) or the awareness of the fact that, if you get hungry or have to potty at any time in the 200+ miles between Oklahoma City, OK and Ft. Riley, KS, you are pretty much out of luck.  I was *VERY* grateful for that Buc-ee’s cinnamon roll.  Don’t ask how I know, but when you REALLY have to go, you can lower your standards to levels you never thought they’d be lowered.

Then I tormented my long-suffering husband by playing the soundtrack from Sound Of Music, because Pandora played it next after the Oklahoma! score ended.

I realized we were not too far from the (now defunct) town of Swink, Oklahoma, population  83 in 2000).  Swink is of interest because a distant ancestor of his moved from Ashland, Kentucky to Swink, Oklahoma for reasons that no one has fully explained.   (There are several mysteries in his family,this is one of them)   After a decade or so, his wife and children moved back to Kentucky but he stayed, and eventually was buried there.  I was going to suggest we make a side-trip and see if we can find Swink and perhaps even the Swink Cemetery where old Henry is buried, but I got distracted by finding more music on Pandora with which I could further torment my long-suffering husband, and we missed the turnoff for Swink.

Before my son was born, I practiced and rehearsed what my first words to him were going to be. I wanted it to be profound and deep, insightful and meaningful. When they finally placed him in my arms, I kissed his cheek, said, 'Oh ...' and burst into tears. For what it's worth, when we left Kansas, I wanted to say something profound and deep, insightful and meaningful. When we finally said our good-bye's, I kissed his cheek, said 'Oh ...' and burst into tears. So that may explain why, even tho I "wrote" this whole post in my mind for 12+ hours, I ended up talking about Pandora, potties and cinnamon rolls.  And a whole paragraph about Swink, Oklahoma.

So I’m going to end this by seeing if I can post some pictures I took on our journey … (I don't like this picture-adding thing. Bear with me, I'm going to experiment with different sites / apps / options over the next few days).

 

Root Beer Flavored Milk.  Good stuff!!

Nowhere to stop.  No gas, no Starbucks, no food, no bathroom.  NOTHING.

Not Houston temps!!





And, of course, if you wanted to send a prayer or two (hundred million) upwards for my son, his wife, our family and all the other Soldiers and families, I'd be most honored and grateful.  And I'll probably say 'Oh ...' and burst into tears.  But that's what I do:  I'm a mom of a deployed son.