Daddy's Uniform

"Daddy’s Uniform"


Looking up, I remember reaching for the bright green leaf whose outline was so perfect against the clear, blue sky, as if painted there. It is these memories that I cherish most. I was on daddy's shoulders, because I wanted to be taller, and I wanted to reach the leaves that were originally miles away. We were the perfect family in my eyes. My parents walked hand-in-hand, and I laughed as daddy tossed me on his shoulders. We were at a hot air balloon festival, one of the many fun events of my childhood that were spent in Heilbronn, Germany. My dad had been stationed there, and I had just started kindergarten. Life was exciting for me, and my family was what made it so.
We shared so many memorable moments together. We shared times of laughter and joy- picnics in the park, trips to the carnival, and walks through the zoo. And while every family has their moments, ours were never that bad. We ate dinner together every night, and on Sundays we always had a huge breakfast. In my eyes, life was perfect. But through the eyes of a child, life is always looked at in a brighter light than it really is. How was I to know that daddy's Army uniform meant more than just going to work? I had no idea that his uniform symbolized a fight for freedom, for the home of the brave. I would have never guessed that daddy's uniform meant that he would be taken away from us for random periods of time.
My world consisted of cereal and "The Simpsons," gumball machines, carousel rides, and journeys on daddy's shoulders. I had never heard of poverty, of innocent people dying under the strict order of a dictator, of war at all. I was a child. My small world then was as big as the one I live in now. I knew that his uniform was an ugly green and brown mixture that somehow went beyond its looks. How did I know that daddy’s purpose for his uniform encompassed so much? I didn’t. Not for a long time, either.
My dad got his first orders of deployment in 1991 for Operation Desert Storm. I was completely oblivious to what that meant, so when my parents sat me down and told me that daddy was about to leave for a long time, I simply did not understand. I knew my routine. I knew that I would see daddy everyday, always. Never would I ever have to say goodbye for more than a few hours. I didn’t have any reason to doubt that I would wake up and see daddy every morning. I knew that I would be able to hug him, laugh with him, sit on his lap and watch cartoons, eat dinner with him, get tossed in the air, and be tucked into my bed. I never guessed that all of these things would be put on hiatus. So when this did happen, I was devastated.
My mom and I had no way of communicating with daddy except through letters and the occasional phone call, which was rare. My mother came up with a creative way of letting daddy hear our voices: we recorded our voices on small cassette tapes and sent them in the mail to him. I remember making these tapes with my mom. She would ask me to recite the ABCs to my dad after I had just learned them. I was a stubborn little girl, and always trying to be funny in my own way. I pretended as if I didn’t know my ABCs, and I would wait until my mom left the room, and I’d whisper into the microphone my new capability of singing the alphabet. I was still in my own world, but I knew there was another one out there. I knew daddy was somewhere in his ugly uniform far away doing his job, and I wanted to share with him the pieces of my world that I knew he would smile at. I missed him. I longed for the dad that would carry me on his shoulders, the dad that would swing me around and laugh with me.
Operation Desert Storm was only a 6 month tour for my dad, which in comparison to other tours wasn’t that long. It’s true when they say “You don’t know what you’ve got ‘till it’s gone.” When he came home, the three of us cherished each and every moment with each other. We eventually moved back to Texas, where I spent most of my childhood. My dad decided that active duty military wasn’t best for our family. He wanted to spend more time with us, and be able to be there more for me as I grew up. He joined the Army Reserves, and to me, it was as if Army life was over. I just missed daddy one weekend out of the month, which wasn’t that bad. It was just another job that he could come home from that very day. We even had the occasional family Christmas party that was sponsored by his new unit- 217th Transportation, also known as the “Tough ‘Ombres”. His uniform was usually tucked away, hung up in the closet behind all of the other clothes that represented so much more to me.
The years went by and I was in high school. Daddy was teaching me how to drive, which was more fun for me than it was for him. He was worried about the boys asking his little girl on a date. He played pranks on me throughout the week. I was quite the daddy’s girl. Nothing changed. So how was I to know that daddy would go away again? His ugly uniform was still tucked away in the back of the closet, only coming out every now and then. I barely ever saw it. All I knew was that his uniform meant business. It meant that he had work to do, and while I still associated it with him being away, I had conveniently forgotten that it also meant he could leave for a long time, too. But why would I worry about that? It had been over 10 years since he was gone last.
When those two towers fell, I knew something had happened. I knew that people were taking action against people that didn’t like us Americans. I knew that somehow daddy’s uniform was linked to this. The news had constantly talked about what was next, and I never thought it would be real until it came out of daddy’s mouth. Until I heard it in person, I wouldn’t believe it. My world began to broaden when I heard it at a fast food bar-b-q place that my mom, daddy, and Ryder, one of his soldiers, ate at. Then I heard it. Ryder said those words I just didn’t want to believe.
“Yeah, we’re going to war again.”
I figured that if I just kept eating and jokingly said, “Whatever,” that it wouldn’t be true. But when daddy nodded in agreement, I knew my world was being broadened and changed. I could comprehend the seriousness of it all now. I knew that those two towers being hit meant so much more than buildings falling. I knew that it meant more than attack. It meant that innocent lives were lost, and if nothing was done, it could happen again. So when daddy wanted to talk to me alone a few days later, I knew what was coming. I knew that the uniform would be out for a long time. The old green and brown uniform had been upgraded to a new digital green one, as if to say that this time, it was different. And it was.
Daddy was gone for a year. Twice. Operation Iraqi Freedom. I was a girl that was used to coming home to silly pranks, like daddy waiting behind the door as I closed it from the front. He knew he could get me every time. I was used to the Sunday morning breakfasts, and the grilled ribs on holiday weekends. But no, he was gone. I spent all of my junior year of high school, with my brand new driver’s license, without my dad. I spent my junior year of college without him, too. I couldn’t just call when I wanted to. I had to wait. But I learned a lot when he was gone. Mom and I grew closer. We’d send him care packages, and make sure that he always had a letter or e-mail coming his way. I learned that daddy was doing something that went beyond the normal job I thought it was as a child. Daddy’s uniform represented more than that.
Now that he’s home, and about to retire from the military after 27 years, I know that daddy’s uniform represents freedom, love, and standing up for those who can’t help themselves. Daddy’s purpose in Saudi Arabia, Iraq, and Kuwait went so beyond what most people do in their lives. All of the soldiers in that uniform work, fight, and stand up for what we cherish everyday. Those memories that we have with our families- they are supported by those men in those ugly uniforms. And while those uniforms appear ugly on the outside, they are actually something so much more beautiful.