Vaya Con Dios, My Son

Many of you pray for our family, and for Luke, specifically, and for that, I'm grateful.  But today I'd like to direct your attention to one of my other boys.

I don't talk about the older kids as much here on the blog.  Mostly to give them a bit of privacy.  But my mama heart can't be silent today.

Many of you who have adopted know what it's like to have "your child" (whom you've often only seen in a photo) living on the other side of the world.  You don't know if they're getting enough to eat or how they're doing, and honestly, it makes us a little crazy during the wait.

Now imagine your child, whom you nuzzled as a baby and nurtured them and watched them grow and change over the years, taking off for the other side of the world.

It's not his first trip.  In fact, he put tacks into all the places he's been, courtesy of the Air Force.

But unlike adoption, where you can assume your kids are fairly safe, my boy had to practice shooting while wearing a gas mask before setting off.

Most of the time, I'm okay being a military mama.  I'm reasonably confident that he's going to be okay, and I'm fiercely proud of him.  But every once in a while, it's hard.

The last several months, I've gotten spoiled, having him local to us again.  I will miss him.  I love my boy, and I admire who he's becoming.  I anxiously await the day when I can post homecoming photos again.  In the meantime, if the sight of a flag, or an Air Force bumper sticker makes me tear up, well, I'm not going to be ashamed.  I'm proud to be the mama of an airman.

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