When my father, Odysseus, and his men sailed off to the Trojan War, they were confident their gods favored a quick victory. Instead, the siege of Troy lasted ten years. After Troy fell, the survivors made their way home to Sparta, Mycenae, Pylos, and elsewhere in the ancient Peloponnese. Neither my father nor any of his troops arrived home with the rest. We waited for years as the news grew worse. Odysseus was dead, we were told,or imprisoned, or, worst yet, he had married another woman and abandoned my mother Penelope, my brother Telemachus, and me.


If he is alive somewhere, his thoughts may wander to Penelope and Telemachus, but he won’t be thinking of me. I am the daughter he doesn’t know exists. Odysseus went off to the Trojan War when his son, Telemachus, was barely old enough to walk. His wife, Penelope, was a teenage bride, and is now a young wife, mother, and queen who has to try to rule Ithaca without him.


I was born seven months after he left. I am a hero’s daughter and a princess of his realm, but I have lived my entire life without a father. I’m nineteen now, and still waiting.


All over the world, and throughout history children grow up as I have. This website will focus on the children of those men and women who have gone off to fight America's wars, and provide information and resources for all who care about military families and want to help.

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Separate Journeys Together

The photo of Jane and family on her website
Adrian Campos Photography
I found a wonderful blog the other day, kept by a military wife who identifies herself only as Jane.  She is blogging about her husband Micah's deployment, beginning with when he first brought home the news.  He is now more than seven months into his tour of duty, and I have only begun to read the blog to learn about her experiences.  Here is an excerpt from the entry where she learns about the deployment, with a link to the rest of the entry and the site home page.



"Instantaneously I felt my world start to unravel.  As much as I had thought about this day – how he would tell me, how long we would have before he left, how I would cope – I couldn’t comprehend it all.  It was just too overwhelming.  I couldn’t think about the birthdays and holidays he would miss.  I couldn’t think about how he likely would not be able to meet his son on the day of his birth, and [selfishly] how I wouldn’t have him as my birthing partner/coach.  I couldn’t imagine days, weeks, months – an entire year – going by without hearing his voice in the house. [...]
In those moments immediately after he told me, we hugged.  I cried.  I felt stupid for the pointless argument we’d had over the weekend.  We hugged tighter.  Eden knew I was sad and tried to console me, which usually works, but unfortunately did very little.  All I knew is that our lives would change drastically.  We would have to go through things together, yet apart.  The only thing that was certain was that on the XXth, we would begin separate journeys together – journeys that would take us to faraway places – a grueling desert and the catacombs of our own minds.  Our journeys would require a strength unlike any we’ve ever needed before.  It would be a marathon, not a sprint.  And we would need tremendous support from each other and our loved ones to make it to the other side stronger."  read more
Posted by About AART at 7:44 AM

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