thedrifter
03-06-07, 06:48 AM
Hero on the home front
By Kristina Pollard -
Posted : March 12, 2007
Marines are fearless and strong, there’s no question about that. I respect those who serve in the Corps almost more than anyone in this world. But I recently had an epiphany: Moms are wonderful.
It takes a special and rare type of person to be a mom. But there are those who are a cut above the rest — women who have strength and love like no other. They are Marine moms.
Most of my columns have highlighted the love I have for my dad while my mom has been for the most part unmentioned. The glory and honor of Marine dads (which they deserve without doubt) overshadow the strength and patience of Marine moms. And I realized too that the fact that they are in the shadows makes them even more courageous and admirable. This column is devoted to all the things Marine moms do to help us brats cope with the military life.
Thank you, Mom, for the shoulder. Each time I fought the world and lost, you were there waiting to console me. You’ve been the one that I can pour my heart out to without the fear of being judged or criticized. You took in all of my pain and somehow transformed it into comfort with your warm hug and kind heart.
Thank you, Mom, for the understanding. For all of my self-proclaimed wisdom, I am still just a child, some moments more so than others. Thank you for understanding when my teenage stupidity made me lash out at you. You took in all of my hateful words and knew that none of it meant anything. You acted as if I was an adult, even when I did not.
Thank you, Mom, for the space. There were times when Dad was gone that I had to be alone, that I had to dive into a pool of self-pity to resurface. At those times, you kept your distance and let me cry alone when I had to, though I can’t imagine how hard that was for you. There were also times when I had to distinguish myself as an individual — when I had to believe in something you did not simply because you did not. When I had to pull away from what you are so I could find me. You allowed me space to become someone.
Thank you, Mom, for the rules. No matter what I have said or will say in the future, I want you to punish me when necessary. I want you to get angry when I do something wrong. I think in the beginning, that’s the whole reason I crossed the line, so I could make sure that you cared enough to pull me back to the safe side and discipline me. Now that I am older, the other side of that line no longer appeals to me. I know that you want the best for me. I know that this is why you chastise me.
Thank you, Mom, for the choices. You never threw unjust orders at me. You never told me what path I had to walk down. Instead, you made me understand that no matter what I did you would be there.
Thank you, Mom, for the talks. You took time out of your day, every day, to ask me about my life. And you listened to what I had to say with genuine interest. Most of the time, I was too self-absorbed to ask about you, but you listened with unyielding patience. And when talking about peer pressure, you were honest and open. You made me understand that there are terrible things out there, but they are not unavoidable. Through talking about love, life, friends, sex, drugs and every other topic, you gave me your knowledge and made me wiser. You did not blindfold me; rather, you offered me everything that you knew and let me do with it what I wanted.
Thank you, Mom, for religion. When I was going through a hard time, you reminded me that God was there. When I was happy, you reminded me that God was there. When I disappointed you, you reminded me that God was there. So from birth, there was never a moment when God was not in my life. You made church fun for me as a child; worship was never a chore. And when I was entering my teens and I stopped believing, you cried for me but did not condemn me. After I found God again, you welcomed me back into Christianity without a word. You taught me faith.
And lastly, thank you for your strength and love. When Dad had to leave or we had to move, you were strong so that I could be weak. You ignored your own emotions so that I could fall apart. You let me break to pieces in your arms and never once focused on yourself. You took care of both me and my brother when we were our most vulnerable. You were the maid, the cook, the breadwinner, the shopper, the handyman and the protector, all at once. In showing this much strength, you showed us, though we didn’t see at the time, how much you loved us. You transformed into our shield because you loved us so much.
It is almost unbelievable that one person can give so much to another. But you have given me everything a person could need and more. I am what I am because of you. I can only hope, in vain, that I will be as exceptional a mom as you are.
Thank you, Mom.
The writer is the 16-year-old daughter of a Marine master sergeant. Her brother recently joined the Air Force, and she also plans to join the military
By Kristina Pollard -
Posted : March 12, 2007
Marines are fearless and strong, there’s no question about that. I respect those who serve in the Corps almost more than anyone in this world. But I recently had an epiphany: Moms are wonderful.
It takes a special and rare type of person to be a mom. But there are those who are a cut above the rest — women who have strength and love like no other. They are Marine moms.
Most of my columns have highlighted the love I have for my dad while my mom has been for the most part unmentioned. The glory and honor of Marine dads (which they deserve without doubt) overshadow the strength and patience of Marine moms. And I realized too that the fact that they are in the shadows makes them even more courageous and admirable. This column is devoted to all the things Marine moms do to help us brats cope with the military life.
Thank you, Mom, for the shoulder. Each time I fought the world and lost, you were there waiting to console me. You’ve been the one that I can pour my heart out to without the fear of being judged or criticized. You took in all of my pain and somehow transformed it into comfort with your warm hug and kind heart.
Thank you, Mom, for the understanding. For all of my self-proclaimed wisdom, I am still just a child, some moments more so than others. Thank you for understanding when my teenage stupidity made me lash out at you. You took in all of my hateful words and knew that none of it meant anything. You acted as if I was an adult, even when I did not.
Thank you, Mom, for the space. There were times when Dad was gone that I had to be alone, that I had to dive into a pool of self-pity to resurface. At those times, you kept your distance and let me cry alone when I had to, though I can’t imagine how hard that was for you. There were also times when I had to distinguish myself as an individual — when I had to believe in something you did not simply because you did not. When I had to pull away from what you are so I could find me. You allowed me space to become someone.
Thank you, Mom, for the rules. No matter what I have said or will say in the future, I want you to punish me when necessary. I want you to get angry when I do something wrong. I think in the beginning, that’s the whole reason I crossed the line, so I could make sure that you cared enough to pull me back to the safe side and discipline me. Now that I am older, the other side of that line no longer appeals to me. I know that you want the best for me. I know that this is why you chastise me.
Thank you, Mom, for the choices. You never threw unjust orders at me. You never told me what path I had to walk down. Instead, you made me understand that no matter what I did you would be there.
Thank you, Mom, for the talks. You took time out of your day, every day, to ask me about my life. And you listened to what I had to say with genuine interest. Most of the time, I was too self-absorbed to ask about you, but you listened with unyielding patience. And when talking about peer pressure, you were honest and open. You made me understand that there are terrible things out there, but they are not unavoidable. Through talking about love, life, friends, sex, drugs and every other topic, you gave me your knowledge and made me wiser. You did not blindfold me; rather, you offered me everything that you knew and let me do with it what I wanted.
Thank you, Mom, for religion. When I was going through a hard time, you reminded me that God was there. When I was happy, you reminded me that God was there. When I disappointed you, you reminded me that God was there. So from birth, there was never a moment when God was not in my life. You made church fun for me as a child; worship was never a chore. And when I was entering my teens and I stopped believing, you cried for me but did not condemn me. After I found God again, you welcomed me back into Christianity without a word. You taught me faith.
And lastly, thank you for your strength and love. When Dad had to leave or we had to move, you were strong so that I could be weak. You ignored your own emotions so that I could fall apart. You let me break to pieces in your arms and never once focused on yourself. You took care of both me and my brother when we were our most vulnerable. You were the maid, the cook, the breadwinner, the shopper, the handyman and the protector, all at once. In showing this much strength, you showed us, though we didn’t see at the time, how much you loved us. You transformed into our shield because you loved us so much.
It is almost unbelievable that one person can give so much to another. But you have given me everything a person could need and more. I am what I am because of you. I can only hope, in vain, that I will be as exceptional a mom as you are.
Thank you, Mom.
The writer is the 16-year-old daughter of a Marine master sergeant. Her brother recently joined the Air Force, and she also plans to join the military