My father left me. He left me at a crucial point in my life. Just as I was about to start my freshman year in high school he left me. Knowing that this year would be very awkward, challenging, and confusing, I needed an adult figure that could help me through these times, and my father left me.
My father is a soldier for the United States Army Reserves. He left me to serve his country and aid in the crises overseas in Iraq. In no way am I ashamed or angry that he left me. That’s the last thing I would say. His absence in my freshman year made me a stronger person. My father left me, and I thank him for making me who I am today.
Standing at five foot ten, proudly sporting a nice, round beer belly, and showing off his balding so-called “blonde” head, my father seems average, but he is much more than that. As a father, husband, and soldier my father recognizes how difficult life can get. At the age of fifty, my father has been through a lot to get where he is today. Knowing this, I can rely on him and put all my faith into what he says and believes. His training for the military shows me how strong I can one day become.
There I was, watching television with my sister, when my father broke the news to us. Never in a million years did we expect him to tell us this. “Guys, I need to tell you something.” Over a few months prior to this, my father had been going to drill more often than normal, but we didn’t think anything of it. He didn’t waste any time trying to exaggerate the truth. “I’m being deployed to Iraq for a year.” My sister bursts into tears and grabs him for a hug to help protect her. This is her senior year, and she wouldn’t want him to miss any bit of it. He promises that he will be back before her graduation, but we all know matters like this are never definite. As my sister and my father hug it out, I stand there in disbelief. No. “They” won’t take away my father for my freshman year and my sister’s senior year. “They” aren’t allowed to. “They” won’t take him away. I realize that there is not a thing I can do, and that I must let him go. He tells me everything will be alright and that we can make it through this year. Most likely, however, he will not be home in a year; it will be closer to one and a half years. This time period was very difficult, and I felt like I wouldn’t make it through the challenges that I was about to face.
June fourteenth, 2003; five in the morning. This day came way too soon for our family. We were scared and proud at the same time. That half-hour drive to the Army Base was not long enough. As soon as I felt my mother put the car in park, I knew it was time. Time to let go. Time to let my father do what he signed up to do.
“So this is it, huh?” I said to my father.
“No, I promise to call once a week. Keep me posted on everything, and try to do your best.”
“Ok, I will. Bye.” I was trying to save face.
“See ya later,” he said, as cheesy as it was.
That year was, and will probably always be, the toughest year of my life. Driving home was terrible. I could hear my sister crying her eyes out. Avoiding the issue, my mother focused on the road. And I just watched the rain pour down on the car as I leaned against the window, trying to fall asleep. Next thing I knew, we were back at the house, and I couldn’t go back to sleep. Instead of lying in bed, pouting all day long, I decided to make use of the time I was given. Going through my father’s old yearbooks, photo albums, and his collections of newspapers, I knew these would help me get through the difficult times I was about to encounter.
Keeping his promise, my father usually called once a week, and he always sent e-mails attached with recent pictures of him and the rest of his troop, asking what he missed this week. My father missed many important events that year that I’m sure he would have loved to see. As a member of the Duncanville Band, our marching band is one of the best in not just the state, but also the nation. Freshman year is the first time that a member of the Duncanville Band can enter the marching band. We perform during half-time at football games, and I’m sure my father would have loved to see the very first performance. Of course there would be three more years that he could watch football games, competitions, and half-time performances, however, he will never be able to watch that first game again. Simple matters like this caused the year to be so difficult.
Having my father gone in a transitional period in my life forced me to mature faster and take more control of my own life. As a freshman, life is very confusing and awkward, and I needed a father-figure to help me feel my way along during this year. I did not have the luxury of that, though. This proved to my peers, my enemies, and even my own self that I could do anything that my heart desired. As tasteless as that sounds, it is that mindset that got me through the year without my father.
Thanksgiving has always been a huge celebration for our family. Not knowing that he was on his way, my mother surprised my sister and me by bringing our father home for Thanksgiving. Though he wasn’t allowed to stay for very long, my sister and I were very excited to see him. Our family doesn’t do the normal Thanksgiving dinner. Instead of turkey, we have steaks. This nontraditional tradition of ours made me appreciate the time with my family even more. He had to leave a couple weeks later, but the time he was here was well spent.
My father finally returned home for good in April of 2004, a month before my sister graduated. By spending time overseas, he helped not only the people of Iraq, but he also helped me to become prepared for any challenge that is thrown my way. Having a parent gone is a very tough setback, and I was ready the second time, or so I thought. Also in the Army Reserves, my mother was also deployed. She went to Afghanistan in April of 2005 and she returned in June of 2006. I was more ready than the first time, when my father was deployed, but nothing can completely protect you from a parent being out of your life for over a year.
In a way, having both of my parents gone is something I truly cherish and am thankful for. Without this life-changing experience, both for them and for me, I don’t think I would be prepared for life in college. I’m ready now. When it is time to move into my dorm, I know I will be as ready as I can be for the challenges of college life. My father left me, and now I am ready for the time when I need to leave him.