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My son the soldier.
My son the soldier.

The Mother of A Soldier

270 words


Reflections On Letting Go and Holding On
by Dianne Roth



“Hi, my name is Dianne and I am the mother of a soldier.”

When he was only hours old, I held him close and whispered in his beautiful ear, “You will never be in the military.”

From an early age he would turn anything into a gun. A corner bite from a cracker or piece of cheese would work. Legos were perfect. A friend complained that he was using a lead pipe in his games and a plastic gun would be so much safer. I opted for the unrealistic lead pipe, hoping he would outgrow it.

In middle school he turned in his assignments "Lt. John Doe (not his real name), US Navy SEALS".

At 22, he joined the National Guard. At 28, he married. At 29, he transferred to active duty with the Army Special Forces. He wanted to specialize in armaments. He was told he qualified for Medic training.... take it or leave it!

At 31, his little boy was born.

In March 2007, age 32, he was deployed to Iraq.

The magnetic ribbons on cars appall me. How can support mean sending one's children into harm’s way or asking them to do harm in our names?

My mind obsesses in circles, but I do not understand. Not war. Not standing quietly as my son is sent to do a job I do not believe is right. Not being the mother of a soldier.

A year ago his new baby girl was born.

We have a truce, my son and I. He will go to war and I will learn to live with it. Our family will survive.


Dianne Roth is a teacher, mother, grandmother, and freelance writer. She lives in Oregon.




Last updated on October 9, 2012