Rude Awakening of a Veteran Army Mom

I have been an IDF army mom for eleven years. In those years I have had three sons go through their mandatory service after aliyah, one who stayed way longer – for over six years – making it to the rank of Captain. (Now a Major in the reserves). 

In all of those eleven years, not once did I allow myself to think about missions they were on, or things they did that wasn’t just training in the field. In my mind, in my sturdy denial bubble, it was all just practice, training and more practice. I know things happened – not because they specifically told me because they were all smart enough to know not to tell me things I didn’t need to know, but because when they got together with each other when I was visiting, or got together with their cousins who are/were also soldiers, the stories would fly. I am thinking some might have been exaggerated, but some…..not so much. I told myself it was all just posturing, them trying to be cool in front of each other. It’s how I coped. I’m a boy mama – I should be made of sterner stuff than this.

There were times when things slipped out – one Shabbat one of my sons had come to NY to visit, and had forgotten that he hadn’t mentioned a specific incident to us, and starts saying in a conversational tone “remember when I was in [this place] and the guy right near me got shot by a sniper?” and as he’s winding up his sentence he is realizing that he hadn’t told me about that…. Suddenly I had things to do in the kitchen. It wasn’t just about the content, it was the easy, no big deal, factual kind of tone he had while delivering his sentence.

I know, logically, that being in an army, being a soldier, is not danger-free. I know that. It’s just been easier not to think about it. After all, my darling little precious boys were brought up against using violence to settle any arguments, and toy weapons of any kind were forbidden. I had no idea at that point that if you are really motivated, you could make a toy gun out of a Barbie!

The war has raged on now for over a year. Two of mine were called up for reserve service, and they’ve done what’s been asked of them, needed to be done, but of course, not discussed in any detail with me. At this point, it’s probably not just about protecting their mother, but also about self-preservation and being ready to talk about horrors witnessed and things experienced. I have never asked, and will never. Honestly, I am SO ok with not knowing. EVER. Unless they have a need to discuss things with me or offload or need me to know. I am sure my imagination can never even come close to actual events. Yes, there were incidents here and there that I had to be told about: “Hi ima, don’t worry, I’m ok, but……” but the denial bubble still stood strong because I needed it to in order to cope. Some things I found out through other family members who (rightly) had no respect for the denial bubble.

Recently one of mine was called to serve and “leave the country without a passport.” It was stressing me out that I didn’t know when he’d be back from his mission and the uncertainty was affecting me. Days without news. My daughter-in-love got me added to the unit families’ WhatsApp group. Basically, every day that the guys didn’t have their phones we got a message on the group that loosely translated to “Good morning/afternoon, Everyone is OK, let’s hope for a peaceful day.” No details, but SOMETHING to tell me he was ok. Like a mini hit of Xanax.

Then came the message that they were back on Israeli soil. And I breathed a sigh of relief. Soon after, I received a text from my son and I figured the chat would be quiet because the guys were going home for chag.

They then sent pictures in the chat – this is X place before, during and after we destroyed it. Oh, and here’s a short video of us in action, and this is how many mechablim we “neutralized.” 

Now, I can see that there is a place for this, and for the guys, and for the army, it’s important to document where they have been and what they have done, but this punctured my bubble of denial. Here in front of me, on my phone, is irrefutable proof that my son isn’t just “playing” at being a soldier. Here is proof that the past 11 years of me not allowing myself to think of them doing anything dangerous (3 combat engineers, they sent me selfies with C4 for goodness’ sake!) is over. Yes, my sons were fighting this war, yes they sent me photos in all their gear, but I was able to have that emotional distance somehow. The other army videos that float around social media – I have never watched them, because it’s just been too hard.

I am now, over a year into this war, finding it hard to accept that my beautiful baby boys may have taken lives. It happens in war. It’s necessary in war. But the denial served me well, made it easier to cope 6000 miles away. And suddenly…. The truth is staring me in the face. And as a parent, it hurts. I understand that in war it’s kill or be killed, and the other side would not hesitate for a second, but the reality has smacked me hard upside my head. It’s my own fault really. Had I accepted total reality in the beginning I wouldn’t be struggling with this so much.

It may seem foolish, and facile to some of you – but denial has been more or less how I have coped. At least, denial in some shape or form. The denial was never 100%, but it was a significant percentage that allowed me to live my life over here without stressing too much about what my boys were doing over there. Yes, this past year I feared every day for their lives, for their safety. But I never allowed myself to think about what it was they were actually doing.

And now the reality has come crashing down on me, and facing this truth and these feelings head on is difficult. I always thought this type of self-preservation was genius, insulating. 

And now. Now 11 years of army service, 1+ year of war – the actual reality of war is sitting in front of me waiting to be dealt with. 11 years of denial swept aside with a handful of photos and one annotated video. I suppose it had to happen sooner or later. But here I am, wondering how to process all this and am in disbelief at my own naivete. My eyes have been involuntarily opened and I don’t like it.