::GUEST BLOGGER:: Independence.

Note from Raylynn:

Happy 4th of July, my lovelies!  I am honored and very pleased to turn the blog over to Ashley Merical as she shares her perspective on being the daughter of a soldier and the sacrifices her family has made for our freedom.  I grew up with Ashley's stepmother in Miles City, Montana and I could not be more humbled to share this with all of you.  Freedom ALWAYS comes at a price for someone.  God Bless our America and those who have kept it free.  Until next time, my lovelies!  -R

Independence means something different to everyone. However, when speaking of the independence of our great nation most agree that independence means we get to choose the lives we lead and make our own choices. Every Fourth of July our nation is seen shooting fireworks, having parties and parades to celebrate our independence. Although who pays the price for this sweet freedom? This freedom comes at no cost to many Americans, however for the families of the men and women in our military; this freedom means something very different. This means sacrifice, dedication and fear. Some might even say that their freedom tastes sweeter because they know what it costs to maintain this independence most take for granted. Whether you agree or disagree with the reasons we are still in this war is irrelevant. The soldiers who fight this battle do not choose why, they do not even choose when, these choices are made by the government, not the soldier.

These men and women choose loyalty to their country above all else, even above family. My father Kord Merical was deployed to Afghanistan April of 2012; this story is insight to how his deployment affected our family, as told from my point of view. Though my father did not pay the ultimate price for freedom, he still paid a cost greater than many know.  I would like to dedicate this piece to every military family and say thank you, I know how hard it can be to serve your country.

Kord Merical served in the United States Marine Corps from 1989-1993. During this time Kord was deployed to Iraq. Once the end his four years were up on his enlistment Kord chose not to re-enlist because he wanted to be a family man and the Marine Corps demanded too much time.  Fast forward about 14 years later and Kord enlisted in the National Guard.  He always had a passion for the military and he felt that the National Guard would not require as much of his time as the Marine Corps. However, as the war in the Middle East continued, more and more of our soldiers from all branches were beginning to be called to battle.

I am Kord’s oldest daughter; I was the oldest child still living at home at the time of his deployment. It was the end of my junior year of high school when he had to leave. I will never forget that day. The way it felt. I have never felt so much pressure through the entire core of my body. There is no lower feeling in the world than watching your hero walk onto a plane and wondering if you will ever see him return. The whole weekend you spend as much time with your family as possible. You are constantly shuffled from one support meeting to the next, it is all part of what the military calls “family readiness.” The whole time you are well aware of what is going to happen at the end of the weekend, yet somehow you believe time will stop, that you will never really have to say goodbye. Then suddenly you find yourself waking up one morning getting showered and ready for the very moment you have “prepared” for all weekend. The hotel room falls silent as everyone finishes up brushing their hair and spritzing with hairspray. Finally, reality sets in as you stand on the tarmac with all of the other families, the sounds of cameras clicking, tears falling and boots shuffling.

I remember looking at my sisters, and my step-mom, Heather, who at the time was 5 months pregnant with my baby brother Kordell. As I looked at them I grew worried. How were we supposed to manage on our own for a year without Dad? Dad was such a huge part of our success; he was supportive, funny and yet stern when he needed to be. How were we supposed to have a baby, help Hadley, who was three at the time, understand why daddy had to leave for so long? I was hollow. I couldn’t imagine how Heather, my stepmom felt. She was pregnant, had Kaylee, Hadley and me. I was born with a rare form of Muscular Dystrophy, even though I am extremely mobile outside of my chair it is still harder to go places and manage. I worried that I would be more of a burden than a help to my family while Dad was gone. So as we all clung to Dad, tears streaming down our faces we whispered how much we loved him and how much meant to us assuring him that not one day would go by without us thinking of him and missing him. Then it was time. He stood tall, shoulders proud; he walked to where his men were standing, fell into formation and stepped onto the plane. The goose bumps spread through the entirety of my body.

There we were, holding hands, sobbing; watching the plane wheels leave the ground, and as I held my grandfather’s hand I looked up at that small white speck in the sky and prayed time would fly. We made our way back to the car, cleaned ourselves up, and had a few empty laughs. We stopped at Perkins on our way out of Billings knowing that no one was really hungry. As we drove home we struggled to find conversation desperate to forget about what we had just done. Soon we found ourselves back in Miles City, MT at that menacing front door.  If you have never lived this situation it will be hard for you to fully grasp because saying goodbye to a soldier on their way overseas is nothing like saying goodbye to a family member who is moving or if you are leaving for a long period of time. It is much more daunting and uncertain to say goodbye to a soldier. I prayed every day that he would be safe thinking that if anything were to happen to him over there our family would never smile again. Now as the days passed his absence was still very present, although we grew more comfortable with the empty seat on the couch.

The new routine suited us well; all of us girls grew very close that year, especially Heather and I. Suddenly we became more supportive and aware of each other as we learned how to cope. Then the baby came. The emotions of that day are still just as raw as the day Dad stepped on the plane. Heather gave birth to a beautiful son; Dad was on skype watching but still painfully aware of the fact that his child wouldn’t feel his touch for another eight months. Heather wondering how she was going to be a new Mommy while caring for the other three children all on her own. I have never known more people as brave as Heather and my father.  But there he was the most beautiful pink bundle. I wasn’t in the room during Heather’s labor or delivery, her mother, father, stepmother and other family members were there with her, and I came as soon as she called saying it was time to meet the baby. He was named Kordell because we wanted him to be named after Kord, but still have his own unique name. Then it was time to bring the baby home and a whole new adventure began.

The first week was ok. Kordell grew fussier and fussier. We tried everything from changing formula to changing how much how many ounces in the bottle. Until one day my grandfather found a lump on his leg. After many doctors’ appointments we discovered that Kordell had Caffey’s Disease.  A rare disease where there is excess bone on the leg and arm bones and as the child grows it stretches out and eventually the bone grows into normal size again. Usually by the time the child is three years old they grow out of it. However it is painful when they hit growth spurts. There were many sleepless nights where Heather, her step mother, and I stayed up holding him as he screamed, all we could do was try to make him as comfortable as possible as we took turns soothing him. Dad was even more stressed now that Kordell was sick and we were on our own.  Although again we found our rhythm, our routine with the new baby became normal and we girls grew even closer as we all took care of each other and Heather and I both worked hard to parent the children. Pretty soon the months were flying by.

We grew used to our new life and before we knew it, it was time to pick up our soldier. We were all so excited yet nervous at the same time. We knew it would be hard for us to forget the roles we had taken while he was away and go back to the way we lived before he left. So much had changed; I mean we had another member of the family. Once we got to Billings it seemed as though time had stopped. It was March of 2013. It had started to lightly snow as the soldiers stepped off of the plane. The whistles and cries of hello and excited bustle erupted from the crowd of families.

He made his way through the crowd, eager to meet his youngest son, and he hug each of us. Then he found us, taking Kordell in one hand and Hadley we all formed a small circle taking in all of emotion and the shock of seeing him standing so close; so within reach when he had been unreachable for 12 months. Then the celebrations began, we went to Applebee’s, although I think we were all a little too excited to eat. Except for Dad, he was beyond excited to be going to an American restaurant.

Once the newness wore off and we began to transition into everyday life again things became more stressful. My role as co-parent was over which was hard, I think for Kordell that took some getting used too. The little man was eight months old and he was not used to having a man in the house. That was hard for me. We had a routine that we were all used to and now we had to adjust and re-incorporate him into our lives. However, any problems there were adjusting; it was well worth it to have him home again.

The fourth of July meant more to us that year than just barbecues and fireworks in the park. We finally understood how great our freedom was and what it meant to maintain that freedom. Every day he was gone we prayed and wished the days would fly by and then when he finally got home we prayed some more and thanked God for keeping him safe and making us strong. That year warranted more growth in our family than any other year thus far. I am so proud to call Kord Merical my father because as hard as our year was, it was nothing compared to the year he had. I couldn’t imagine having to be that far from your family not being able to help them, and doing the job he had to do, fighting the battles he had to fight and being in a constant state of stress all while maintaining his famous smile.

So... this Fourth of July take a moment to reflect upon what this holiday means and the families who have fought to keep that holiday.