Life in the Military #2 - Deployments

Deployment is a touchy issue. I know of marriages that have been destroyed by it, families disconnected by it, and lives changed by it, for better and for worse. My dad has been deployed numerous times. A year on gitmo, six months in Asia, a year in Saudi Arabia, six months in Bosnia, a few months in Europe, a year in Afghanistan, and a year or two in other various places worldwide. He's missed christmases, birthdays, easters, and graduations. He's brought home kites from Japan, rugs and ancient spear points and tools he dug up from Afghanistan, chests from Pakistan, and numerous other trinkets from his escapades. Not to mention a sack of emotions.

I've hugged and waved off men at the bus station on the way to war who didn't return for the homecoming welcome.
I've led activities and events for the kids of the struggling mothers in the Family Readiness Group, a support group for our deployed unit.
I've sat through memorial services trying not to cry.
I've visited at my house with a mother of a son KIA , while my family talked with her and listened to her, even when she talked endlessly of every mundane detail of her sons life.
I've been with my sisters caring for my mom during 9 months of pregnancy and birth while my dad was gone.
I've....not cared at all that my dad was away.

And I can't believe I just wrote that, admitting such. But it's true, there have been times where I really didn't care whether or not my dad came back. I guess I had just gotten used to the family hierarchy and system the way it was, and I felt like dad was just an intruder. Being gone for such a long time can do that to a family, and it's true that there is some form of rejection, however slight, when parents return home. Obviously I love my dad and don't still feel that way now. I'm just saying, it's happened.