I’ll be home for Christmas

If anyone is feeling particularly at home in the ambiguity of a pandemic these days, it’s the military.  Soldiers have learned to comfortably exist, if not thrive, in uncertainty.  Will my orders come through? Am I coming home this week?  Will I get staff duty on Christmas? AND be in the field for New Years’?? Military families are unphased by the idea that the holidays may be spent apart from extended family.  Every military spouse knows promises and nonrefundable tickets are risky; Bing Crosby’s “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” remains the unofficial anthem for military holiday plans.

You could say that holidays-in-absentia are somewhat of a service tradition.  In General James Mattis’ final holiday message to troops, which rings true now more than ever, he writes:

“This month, many in our military will be serving far from their loved ones.  It is difficult work, but this is nothing new: since Washington crossed the Delaware on Christmas Day in 1776, American troops have missed holidays to defend our citizens’ experiment in democracy.”

This year, America is experiencing many of the same uncomfortable feelings inherent to deployments – separation, isolation, uncertainty, and a touch of nostalgia for better, more “normal” times.  And while the news is full of app recommendations to help create the perfect virtual celebration, something servicemembers and their families have been painfully well versed in for years, we all know it’s just not the same.

These feelings can be difficult, but I have found resiliency during deployment and quarantine alike by acknowledging that our hardships are meaningful.  While deployed to a medical aid station in Afghanistan, I missed many significant events at home.  Rather than dwelling on the missed moments, my teammates helped me to remain mentally strong.  Time and again they reminded me that we were in it together, and why I believed in the value of our mission.  During moments of adversity, I am buoyed by the belief that no matter how small the sacrifice, there is great meaning in bearing these little hardships in service of our neighbors.

This year we’ve had ample opportunity for little (and sometimes big) sacrifices in service of our neighbor.  In whatever battle you are currently fighting—COVID, finals, canceled plans, or combat—I echo General Mattis’s holiday wishes: “Merry Christmas, and may God hold you safe.”