365

Last week Christians world over entered the season of Lent, mostly giving up something of pleasure or vice for 40 days and nights. Some dove in after partying like a Rock Star. My family and I experienced some of that in Eindhoven during a swim meet, which coincided with Carnival. It was fun to watch, but I kept thinking it would take many about that long to recover from their hangovers.

In England, we ate pancakes the night before in one last symbolic indulgence on Shrove Tuesday. Meanwhile, I viewed friends' posts and listened to others with interest as those around me considered their sacrifice. Notions of change ranged from subtle to extreme; or even none at all, depending on the individual.

Lent is an old English word meaning, “lengthen.” While pondering what I might let go for 40 days, I noticed a post from a friend who is returning home after a 365. A “365” is what military members refer to as a year-long tour of duty, which does not include family members.

365.

365 trumps 40.

365 days in the desert is a long time. The sacrifices made by the entire family are many. And often, as I’ve witnessed, those effected put forth such positivity, it’s easy to forget the endurance it must take for everyone involved. 

My friend returning home documented his experiences this past year through a gifted eye followed by a trail of photos he shared on Facebook throughout his deployment.  The images brought context and insights to his daily life. Intended, I believe, for his near and dear, he paid forward perspective to many of us who otherwise would have no clue what it means to spend a year in Afghanistan, away from family.

At the same time, another friend is considering a year to come without her husband, as it seems he will be assigned a 365. They await word. I look on as she considers life in his absence.

Like many military spouses I know, she is stoic. She doesn’t appear phased. But I imagine as she navigates through her days with her busy family, she also mentally negotiates all it will take for her to do everything without her partner. It’s exhausting just thinking about it. People say you take one day at a time, thus the term, "another day down."

A 365 is a sacrifice my friends endure with grace. And it offers such levity to me during this Lenten season. For me it's a bridge. What is that saying, something about the strength of a country carried on the shoulders of but a few? Ah — I'm sure to muddle it.

But I try to remember as I anticipate the question some friends pose — the “WHY?” question. As in, why would you spend your life this way? Most people I know who are members of our voluntary armed forces or married to someone who is, are a gentle, pensive, adventurous folk who feel a sense of duty and at some point beg the question, “What would the world look like without us?”

But that’s beyond the scope of my thoughts today. Today I simply try and fathom the length of a 365.

It’s a commitment many take in stride, while others simply cannot embrace. Babies are born. People die. Birthdays are celebrated. Children are soothed. Beds are made. Stories are read. Holidays and seasons come and go. 

In 40 days, folks return to chocolate and wine, and Facebook for another year before considering letting them go again. In contrast, it seems forever — a year.

And it is a long time, when you break it down to daily life, especially when the kids are small; growing and changing daily. Many people I know create symbols of “another day down.” Some string 365 beads or candies for the kids to remove daily in their countdowns to when their beloved returns.

Another friend dove into work during her husband’s year away. Though she is a lawyer by trade, she became a substitute teacher and worked as many days as she could get. Meanwhile, she coached; taught in church; made fitness goals. It seemed the busier she was, the less time she had to feel lonely, or so I imagine.

My family has, so far, not endured this particular period of military penance. Five or six months is the longest we’ve been apart at one time. Not everyone undergoes 365s, but out of the one percent of US citizens who serve in the military, more and more seem to be learning to live through one.

During the Vietnam era, the tour of duty for the majority of the soldiers and Marines was a year. But this memory is distant for those of us who were infants at the time or in our childhood.

It is better now for families, I imagine. We now are able to keep in touch via voice and video in real time. This helps bridge the divide and keeps the memories of small children in check.

During this pensive time of year, as winter slowly gives way to spring, why not reach out to someone you know whose sacrifices bring levity to our own gestures of endurance.





"Never in the field of human conflict was so much owed by so many to so few." — Winston Churchill in regards to The Battle of Britain