When I asked him why ... he said, 'I want to make a difference. I'm a Marine.' For me, there were no more questions. I understood. As a Marine, you feel your time is never over.
Profoundly Proud
On the January night before Kendall and Chris left home, Chris said goodbye to his family. His four sons -- Tristen, now seven, Dalton, five, Preston, three, and Taigen, 23 months -- gave him a drawing of a blue angel with a halo, saying it would protect him in Iraq. Chris folded the drawing and put it next to a Marine Corps prayer he carries in his pocket. When Tristen confessed he was scared, Chris hugged him and said, "Me too, buddy, me too."
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Meanwhile, in Silver Lake, the Phelps daughters and two younger sons gathered for pizza at the table where they'd shared so many meals. At 5 a.m., Sherma, Kendall and Josh, 22, drove down the empty expressway to Chris's house, where the car was already loaded for the trip to Camp Lejeune.
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Kendall hugged his wife, and both cried in the predawn darkness. Lisa and Chris kissed and then, pretending he'd forgotten something in the house, Chris raced back inside and left a letter he'd written on the kitchen counter.
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In part, it read,<br> <br>
<i>Boys, <br>
I want you to know that I am a Marine, and I do what I do for you. We live in the greatest country in the world, and because of that your options throughout your life will be limitless. You have those options because there are hundreds of thousands of servicemen and servicewomen willing to protect America and our way of life. I am no different than any of them. ... I am so very proud of each and every one of you. You all have special God-given talents and you are destined for great things in the future. Remember to always be honest, keep your integrity, speak your mind, and fight for what you believe. ... I love you all very much! <br>
Semper Fidelis,<br>
Dad </i>
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These days, Lisa and the boys read the letter aloud often. And every night each sleeps in one of their father's Marine or KU Jayhawk T-shirts. "It makes us feel a little better," says Lisa.
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While profoundly proud of their men, neither Lisa nor Sherma pretends that it's easy being separated. Says Sherma, "Every time Kendall went to summer training over the years, something would happen at home -- a flat tire, a tornado, even a snake in the house. This time, sure enough, a strong wind blew the water heater pilot light out -- something that has never, ever happened before."
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And at Lisa's, the dishwasher broke down, Tristen had to go to the ER with a 103-degree fever, and the vacuum blew up -- all within the first three days of Chris's departure.
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Lisa is trying to stay strong for her little boys. With her husband and
son both in Fallujah, Sherma sometimes spends sleepless nights trying to stave off worry. "Just pray that they get back here together safely," she says. "Please."