The double whammy

I dropped Senior Jefe at the airport today, where he stood in the security line next to a freshly minted sailor bound for San Diego. They both disappeared around the security barrier at the same time, which was commented on by the sailor's mother who said that he was with the Army guy. I turned and said something about them both being in the Navy and she asked me if my husband was flying to San Diego with her son. He wasn't. He's back to the land of ice and snow today.
She looked sad and tears welled up in her eyes and she told me, "You never get used to them leaving, you know?"
I realized as I kissed my husband goodbye via lip print on the security glass that I really don't know. I remember the first time Senior Jefe left for deployment on a plane to Bahrain. It was at the military airport in Norfolk, on a flight full of other people in our situation, wives and kids weeping while the played "Love me when I'm gone" and I stood there and cried. I pulled it together enough to smile as he walked away, the distance between us growing by leaps and bounds it seemed, and then I turned and walked away the second he disappeared from sight, while the rest of the families waited in tortured silence and that damn song kept carrying on about something I felt no one could possibly understand.
It wasn't the first time we had said goodbye. There were lots of airports over our long distance relationship, lots of watching him drive away when he didn't fly, but there was that added uncertainty at this moment that felt crushing. I sat in the parking lot for a long time and wept and then I drove to work, because I didn't know where else to go and I didn't have anyone to talk to. It was miserable.
I haven't thought about that day in a long time. It seems so distant. Senior Jefe and I have fallen back into a routine of airport visits necessitated by our long distance marriage right now. It hurts, but it doesn't hurt as much, because I know I will talk to him tonight and the next night. He's in no danger. I know what is coming at him for the next few days, few weeks. In a way it is comforting.
As I walked away from the mother, waiting for her kid to board the plane to San Diego, I realized that parents of military personnel face a double whammy that doesn't really get talked about. It's not just that they face the separation that parents face when their kids leave the nest. They also face the unknowns that come with military life, but without the same type of support most military families (i.e. spouse and kids get). They don't really know if everything will be okay. They may not even be the first called if something goes wrong (depending on whether the service member has a family of their own). They don't see the day to day life that isn't directly related to a deployment, so while I find Senior Jefe tucked away safe in the land of ice and snow to be a good thing, a comforting thing, this mother was worried about her son being tucked away in San Diego.
It's just different and it needs to be recognized as such. For my part, having had this encounter, I think I am going to be a little more helpful in keeping Senior Jefe's family in the know about how he is doing and that he is relatively safe right now and that there is little to fear. In a few months that may change, but I'll let them know that when we get to that point. Hopefully this will reduce a bit of stress on their part.
Alternatively, I may be all wrong and military parents are worried about their kids the way I think they are. If that's the case, let me know in the comments below.