A Very Brave Mother
Today's writer celebrates the everyday courage of those whose compassion makes the world better.
Today's writer celebrates the everyday courage of those whose compassion makes the world better.
Before I became a mom of two, I served in the Navy, flying search-and-rescue helicopters after following in the footsteps of my dad, a 30-year Navy jet pilot. I feel so connected to him on Veterans Day, although he’s been gone for eight years; he’s buried at Arlington National Cemetery, among thousands who also served. Military service clearly requires courage (even in peacetime, an aircraft carrier’s flight deck offers an exciting array of ways to risk your life), and service members receive medals as tangible evidence of their heroism. When I think about my dad’s Navy career however, I’m also struck by my mom’s bravery. During his deployments, she was at home, worrying about her husband, running on the endless hamster wheel of laundry and dishes (an exciting array of ways to risk your will to live), trying to be everywhere and everyone at once for her family.
When I think about my dad’s Navy career however, I’m also struck by my mom’s bravery.
Once, when I was a toddler, I had a splinter that she worried was infected. The nurse at the base clinic wasn’t subtle about her skepticism, asking, “You want a doctor to look at a splinter?” My conflict-averse mom aimed her enormous, steely blue eyes at that gatekeeping nurse and said, “My husband is doing barrel rolls in combat right now…So yes, I want a doctor for our daughter.” Later, as the doctor worked on the splinter with tweezers, he told me quietly, “Young lady, you have a very brave mother.” My mom didn’t win any medals for her bravery that day, but she absolutely deserved that doctor’s acknowledgement. We all do, for all our small, quiet acts of courage: for showing up for those we care about, for reaching out to others with compassion even when it feels awkward or we risk rejection. We should acknowledge the bravery of doggedly, hopefully, just putting one foot in front of the other in this heartbreaker of a world—or of finding the courage to ask for help. This Veterans Day, I will be thankful for the service of our veterans, but I’ll also celebrate the everyday courage of those whose compassion makes the world better.