By Sarah Ball

Christmas at Ft. Drum, New York should be postcard-perfect. The woods are thick with evergreens, ponds and rivers freeze over, and a white Christmas is virtually guaranteed. But for many military families, Christmas will be far from picturesque this year.  For some, this is a season of joy; for others, it is a winter of loneliness. This is Christmas at Ft.  Drum.

For Taylor, this is a season to celebrate.  She loves Christmas, and the festivities began in her house on the day after Thanksgiving.  She has her tree up, her presents bought and wrapped, sugar cookies baked, plane tickets to Grandma’s house purchased, Santa inflated in the yard, family portraits taken, Christmas cards addressed and stamped.  Taylor is ready to celebrate.

In truth, her celebration began in July.  The whole neighborhood saw the signs appear in her yard.  “Welcome Home, Daddy!” “We love you!” “Give Me a Hug, Daddy!” Even the car was accessorized with a yellow ribbon on the antenna and red and white paint on the windows.

Taylor’s children insisted on the window paint.  After all, they’d spent a year waiting for their chance to welcome Daddy home.  They watched other families in the neighborhood take turns welcoming their soldiers home.  Each time the yard decorations went up somewhere, Taylor’s boys took note.  “Look, Mom!  They put little flags along their whole driveway.  Can we do that for our daddy?”

The flags and ribbons and signs only lasted a couple of weeks in Taylor’s yard, but the celebration has not ended.  Daddy is home, so the icicle lights are up on the eaves this year.  Daddy is home, and the weighty New York snows will meet Daddy and the snowblower, not Mommy with a shovel.  Daddy is home, so the kids can wrestle and tickle and build snowmen with their favorite playmate once again.  Daddy is home, and the world has returned to the way it should be.  Next year, he may deploy again, but for this year, for this Christmas, it is a season to celebrate.

Across the street, Theresa is not celebrating.  Her Christmas tree is up, but there will be no outdoor lights this year.  Her Christmas cards are sent, but there was no family picture enclosed.  Theresa’s Christmas shopping is done, but all the gifts labeled “To Daddy” went into a USPS box three weeks ago.  After all, mail to Iraq can take up to a month in transit.

Theresa began mailing boxes to Iraq in August, two days after her husband’s deployment.  She buys magazines, cookies, gum, and comic books by the handful.  Every box is packed with a crayon masterpiece by 3-year-old Bradley on top.

For Christmas, Daddy will receive a photo puzzle of Bradley with their golden retriever, a photo coffee mug of Theresa and Bradley, and a giant photo poster of Bradley in his first T-ball uniform.  Theresa bought half a dozen other gifts as well, although her husband has told her over and over, “The only thing I really want is the one thing I can’t have - my family.”

Theresa’s gifts for Bradley are wrapped and under the tree.  She has a few extra gifts hidden away, just in case the box of gifts coming from Iraq is delayed.  One way or another, Bradley will find gifts labeled “To Bradley, From Daddy” under the tree on Christmas morning. 

Theresa hopes her husband will be able to call on Christmas Day, although there will be long lines for the phones in Iraq on that day.  A phone call from Iraq is a highlight on any day.  A low point always follows, however.  Exactly 9 minutes and thirty seconds after the first hello, a female operator cuts in to say, “You have 30 seconds remaining.” Theresa hates that woman.

For this year, at least, Theresa hates Christmas as well.  Every day of deployment is long and challenging, but family holidays bring the loneliness into focus.  The normally dull ache takes on a sharper edge.  She just wants the days to pass quickly, to bring next August to the front of her calendar with greater speed.  Next year, she will celebrate and decorate lavishly and rejoice in the season.  Next year will be wonderful.

Snowflakes are falling now, settling gently on the roofs of the military housing.  By tomorrow morning, every house will be identical under its white blanket of snow.  A few homes will show their garland and outdoor lights proudly, declaring, “Here lives a Taylor!  This home is celebrating!” The rest of the neighborhood will wear its snowy blanket quietly, as if whispering, “We are the Theresas.  We will wait and hope, and our time to celebrate will come.” A season of celebration, a winter of waiting - this is Christmas at Ft. Drum.

Editor’s Note: While “Taylor” and “Theresa” are not actual women, they do provide a composite face of thousands of real women in military families this holiday season.

Sarah Ball is wife of Captain Doug Ball, who will be spending Christmas at home this year after deployment during Christmas 2005. Doug and Sarah are stationed at Ft. Drum Army Post in Watertown, New York along with their three children: Rachel, Robert and Laura.