Four military training instructors keep a close eye on a formation of new recruits at Lackland Air Force Base, Texas. Military training instructors now conduct an extended basic training program that runs eight-and-a-half weeks, two weeks longer than the previous program. (U.S. Air Force photo/Michael Tolzmann)

***My eldest son, Yosef, left for Army Basic Training in October. This series documents my parenting experience through his nearly three months away from home. Please note: this series is not affiliated with the U.S. Army National Guard in any way, all observations and opinions are my own. ***

Departure Date: October 1st

Over the summer I watched my friends describe taking their kids to college as “leaving a piece of their heart” at (insert University name here). I felt their happy-sadness; whether that drop off took place at a college across town or on the other side of the country/world.

And, as a result of seeing a lot of that kind of sadness dot my social feeds all summer, I felt good about Yosef’s late fall departure to Army Basic Training. I thought that seeing my friends’ young adults head to school would somehow soften the hurt I’d feel in sending my eldest child off Boot Camp.

I was wrong.

Nothing could have readied me for Yosef’s departure.

It hurt bad.

It still does.

The Easy Stuff: Tactical To-Do’s for Send Off

To their credit, the Army made the nuts-and-bolts of my son’s departure incredibly easy.

The instruction: have Yosef at a pre-determined hotel by no later than 6 pm on Sunday night. The hotel for us was the same as he stayed at in preparation for his initial MEPS (Military Entrance Processing Station) appointment a few months prior. We’d be able to say our goodbyes in the lobby on Sunday evening. Yosef would spend the night in the hotel before departing on a bus the following morning by 5 am.

The Army took care of everything with the exception of getting Yosef to the hotel on time. That was easy.

The Hard Part: Goodbye for Now

If you’re preparing to drop your soldier off, do yourself a favor by leaving 10-15 minutes in the hotel lobby to hang out together, to take pictures, and to enjoy the last few moments of your loved ones physical presence.

Unfortunately, we were running a bit late from a family dinner together that left us with just enough time for a few hugs and waves for Yosef. He hurried to sign himself in and darted toward a closed conference room that we were not allowed to enter.

That was it – the big goodbye.

No matter how many hugs, it hurts to see your kid walk off.

No matter how much you know that they NEED the discipline of Basic Training, having them leave is gutting.

No matter how many friends you’ve supported in doing the same at a college campus nearby, you won’t be prepared for this goodbye.

It sucks.

I’m sorry – no BS here – it will hurt to drive toward home with one less passenger in the car. All of us in the family minivan shed some tears on the return ride without Yosef.

When Your Soldier is In-Transit

At first, your soldier can communicate freely. Be sure they make the most of that time to use their phones as they are enroute to their Basic Training destination. Rest assured, that goes away abruptly as they arrive at Reception (I’ll be writing more about Reception next week).

Yosef kept us informed of his departure via calls and texts as he was transported from the hotel to MEPS in the morning, from MEPS to the airport in the afternoon, and wait for his flight at the airport that night. He even called from the USO Lounge at the airport to brag about the free snacks and $23 food gift card the Army gave to him. Lastly, he texted when he arrived at his ultimate destination (Fort Leonard Wood, MO). I heard Yosef’s voice for the last time as he sat down on the plane.

Tip: Before you say your goodbyes, I’d suggest that parents be prescriptive to your soldier about calling (not texting) before the phones are turned off. I waited up until 1 am the night Yosef was to arrive at Basic only to receive a quick text that read, “Dad, at base. Have to turn phone off. Love you.”

From my bed that night, I was pissed, thinking, “Damn it, Yosef, why didn’t you call!” I really hoped to hear him again because I was uncertain when the next opportunity might come. Regrettably, I chewed on that emotion for most of the first week that Yosef was away.

I’d say to encourage your kid to call (not text) before they leave the arrival airport.

The Immediate Emotion of a Parent Left Behind

Reflecting on the day Yosef left, most of my sadness centered on the immediate guilt of not knowing if I’d adequately prepared him for what he was set to face. Only after he left did I search YouTube for Basic Training videos/testimonials that helped me paint a picture of what my little boy (lol) would be tolerating without my support. Seeking more information (mostly via YouTube testimonials) helped me calm down a bit.

I also made sure to connect with Yosef’s Army National Guard recruiters (again) as a sounding board. They provided me with approximate timelines and calibrated my expectations in terms of ways Yosef might attempt to contact us. As usual, their knowledge and “been there, done that” demeanor was welcome to my over-emotional manic moods.

Lastly, I began writing to Yosef each night. I give him updates on things around home or about dumb stuff like his Wisconsin Badgers’ Football team. This provided an alternative to a nightly BS session we’d typically be having if Yosef were home. This was more for me, less for him. I figured that once I was able, I’d mail these notes to him at Basic Training.

Your Soldier will be Fine

While you’re able to prepare for getting to the venue on time or for a big family send-off, you will not be able to fully prepare for how you’ll feel seeing your child leave. It is different, I think, than dropping a kids off at a college dorm room.

This felt like more than leaving a piece of my heart behind. No, it felt like I threw that piece of my heart into a locked box that would be submerged at the bottom of an ocean abyss only to resurface if they were successful on their own in no sooner than 12-week’s time.

This moment was, both, filled with pride and a reminder of the immediate ending to Yosef’s childhood (and my parenting of him in that way). I’m his loudest supporter but I’m no longer supposed to protect him on a daily basis.

It’s rough, but Yosef will be just fine.

They’ll be fine.

So will I.

So will you.

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