Sacrifices of the heart

By Mike Gordon
Advertiser Staff Writer

Paola Kennedy, 22, coaxes a smile from her 3-month-old daughter, Isabella. Kennedy and her husband, Cpl. Jamaal Kennedy, put together Isabella's crib the day before he was deployed to Iraq for a year. Photos by Rebecca Breyer • The Honolulu Advertiser

Judi Dewhurst says her sons Micah, left, and Kyle sometimes feel upset that their father, Lt. Col. Mark Dewhurst, is away from home. She tries to answer their questions and be "as honest as possible."

Four weeks ago, the Army sent their husbands — all members of the 2nd Brigade of the 25th Infantry Division (Light) — to Iraq for a 12-month tour of duty. The women, with babies in their arms and children in tow, waved goodbye and returned to homes that felt too empty.

And every day since, the realities of military deployment have weighed upon them.

Paola Kennedy holds her infant daughter when she describes what it means. She even musters a smile.

"First crawl, first words, first everything, lost forever," she says.

She and her husband, 20-year-old Cpl. Jamaal Kennedy, put baby Isabella's crib together the day before he shipped out.

"He looked into the crib and he broke down and cried," Kennedy says. "He went into the bedroom and he buried his face in his pillow and cried. He said, 'I don't want to go.' "

Paola Kennedy understands, though. In the Army four years, she's a 22-year-old specialist who once vowed never to marry an infantryman.

"But love happened," she says.

Their first wedding anniversary is in March.

Kennedy made another vow when her husband deployed: He'll never know about her problems until he's home, safe. She uses a phrase common among Schofield wives.

"I want him to keep his head in the game," she says. "I don't want him to get killed, God forbid, because he's worried about me."

Kennedy copes with the help of prayer — lots of it, she says — and a photograph of her husband under her pillow.

Each day brings a fresh challenge for the spouses. The dangers of Iraq, both real and rumored, jangle their nerves. They've heard too many stories — all untrue — about casualties.

"The rumor mill is so crazy around here," says Natalie West, a 19-year-old who married her Army sweetheart in July.

"There have been some bad ones," she says. "Why are you going to tell someone's wife that? Don't you have any remorse for anybody?"

West works hard at keeping life normal. Still, unexpected moments can stymie that.

When she sees a military couple, she grits her teeth. She's not proud of the thoughts that flash through her mind.

"It's just the way it is," West says. "And I don't know how to deal with it."

The other day when her husband called, West told him she loved him and that she was pregnant.

"It kind of broke my heart when I told him," she says. "He said, 'I'm going to miss my first child being born.' "

The wives have support groups and say that gives them strength. At a recent potluck gathering for one group, 130 spouses showed up, far more than organizers expected. The group felt a common bond and phone numbers were exchanged.

But Irma Fryer figures she will need more than that. The 20-year-old mother calls herself "a stressful person."

As she gently rocks 1-month-old Christina, her eyes have a lost, far-away look.

"Even with support groups, you remember and you talk about what you did, say, last Valentine's Day," she says.

"I'm always telling my friends stories about how I met my husband. And then you feel upset. You go back home and it's empty. He kept it so full."

Judi Dewhurst has been through five previous deployments, but sending her husband overseas hasn't grown any easier.

As the wife of a battalion commander, she has to stay strong for the spouses of the soldiers her husband is leading through the desert.

And she juggles this along with her family's emotions, she says. Sometimes her sons, who are 7 and 13, get angry that their father isn't home.

To help deal with that, she gave her husband a stack of stamped, addressed greeting cards that he could mail them from Iraq. Each one will take about 14 days to arrive.

Dewhurst can't gloss over the dangerous realities of the mission, however. Her sons won't let her. They ask a lot of questions, she says.

"My youngest one is obsessed with the dangers and the repercussions of what can happen," she says. "I try to be as honest as possible. If something does happen to his father I don't want him to be surprised."

Staci Hale has lived through other deployments, including her husband's recent mission to Afghanistan.

With or without help, time will teach the women to survive on their own, she says.

"You're a counselor, mother, father, mechanic, everything," Hale says. "It makes you stronger and you learn to adapt. But it does take time."

Reach Mike Gordon at mgordon@honoluluadvertiser.com or 525-8012.