humansofnewyork:
(4/4) “He didn’t even tell me he was enlisting. He called his dad one day and said: ‘Don’t tell Mom.’ I remember it was Halloween. We were trick-or-treating with our grandson, and I noticed that my husband was walking ahead of me, whispering with my son-in-law. When he finally told me, I supported his decision 100%. I think it was a defense mechanism. I focused on supporting him so I wouldn’t feel afraid. I just didn’t want the military to change him. I raised four children. I knew how each of them was different. Chris was the one who felt things the deepest. He wanted to help people. And I didn’t want him to see something that changed him forever. That was my prayer every night. Other moms in our town had sons who went to war. I’d heard stories. They told me that their sons had seen too much. They just weren’t the same when they came home. When Chris first got back from Afghanistan, I didn’t notice much difference. He seemed to be spending less time with us, but he was recently married, so that seemed natural to me. But one night he came over and asked us all to sit down at the kitchen table. He said: ‘Mom and Dad, I want to tell you something.’ I thought he had cancer. But he said: ‘I’ve been diagnosed with PTSD.’ When I heard those words, my heart sank. I thought it meant forever. I thought it meant a lifetime. But he explained to us that he was getting treatment. And that it was going away. My husband is a retired police officer. After Chris left, he said to me: ‘I’m so proud of him for talking about this stuff. Because I never did.’”
