Where's Bob?

By Ava Cooper

One evening during the spring of 1982, our family was just winding down toward bedtime when I heard a car horn blaring in the neighborhood. I looked outside to see what idiot was blowing his car horn on and on and on. Then I realized it was mine. The noise suddenly seemed louder since I knew I was causing it. I thought to myself, “Bob really needs to do something about that.” That thought was followed quickly by “Oh, yeah, he’s not here.”

My husband Bob had left that afternoon for a six-month deployment to Okinawa with the Marine Corp. After beating on the horn had no effect, I was out of ideas, but thankfully, I had neighbors. I found one, and he quickly disconnected the horn, restoring peace to the street. I pondered, “I never honk at anyone anyway; I can live without a car horn for six months.”

That instance seemed to set the pattern for our lives during deployments. Every appliance seemed to know the moment Bob left, and at least one would give up the ghost completely during his absence. But with the help of the Lord, friends, and great neighbors, we always made it.

It is widely understood that serving in the military has a great impact on families. In our case, the positive far outweighed the negative. Bob became a chaplain in the Navy when our children were eight, five, and three. They grew up on military bases both in the States and abroad. I don’t believe they felt insecure when their dad was away, because their mom was always there, along with their home, their school, their friends, and their church (called chapel on base). At every duty station, the chapel community took us in. We had no time to ease in and slowly get to know each other, because none of us would be there long. So we talked fast and embraced our differences: race, religious traditions, and backgrounds. The kids’ grandparents were not near to help out, but others stepped up, like a couple who took them to McDonald’s to celebrate when Suzanne completed her first week of kindergarten without too many tears.

I had to learn many hard things when Bob was not around. He married a timid, young woman who could not even drive a car. Since those early years, I have driven across the United States twice—surviving New York City traffic by the grace of God. I flew to San Diego, searched out, and bought a house because he could not go with me. Someone taught me how to choke our old lawn mower to restart it when it would sputter out on me. I thrilled to watch five-year-old Robby, who was used to running to me for praise after hitting a ball off the tee, veer towards his Dad when he suddenly realized he was there.

I would not trade my life for any other. Bob’s deployments were difficult, and his absence for six months and more was a struggle. But his homecoming was like Christmas and a honeymoon, all at the same time! Separations and multiple moves are hard, but many things about military life are unique and wonderful. I love moving from place to place. I love creating a home. The military gave me the opportunity to do that many times. I often got to take a white-walled “cracker box” and turn it into a warm, beautiful, and welcoming home. It was always fun to see how my neighbors took their own cracker box and made it different from mine.

I enjoyed new foods and new customs in each new place. In Texas, I read Julie’s sixth-grade Texas history book, which inspired me to learn the history of each new place we lived. I discovered so many wonderful places and ways to live, each unique and beautiful in its own way. I was never homesick because I carried my home with me, adding new people, places, and experiences as I went. We lived and served at several bases across our country and overseas in Iceland, Spain, and Guam. During overseas assignments, we had opportunities to travel to other locations in Asia and Europe. “Join the Navy and see the world” is true and exciting.

Our children look back on their childhoods with nostalgia. When they get together, they fondly recall the chilly flight back to Guam from Korea on a tanker, riding in web seats, and watching the mid-air refueling. Good times! Robby will sometimes tease his wife, saying things like, “When I was in Paris…or Brussels…or London.”

Or, he recounts the time when he and Suzanne arrived in Keflavik, Iceland, and the base commander came on board to welcome everyone. He said to be careful deplaning because it was “a bit breezy” outside. When Robby stepped onto the ramp with his guitar strapped to his back, the gale force winds caught the guitar and nearly sent him airborne. “Breezy” has a different meaning in Iceland!

Our oldest daughter Julie had a hard time leaving every place we lived. She swore she’d grow up and buy a farm and never leave it, but when she grew up, she married an Air Force boy, and they headed happily off to Okinawa for an adventure of their own.

God has blessed our family beyond measure, and we will always be thankful for the opportunity He gave us to minister to our men and women in the military.

About the Writer: Ava Guinn Cooper is married to Chaplain Robert P. Cooper, Commander, United States Navy, Retired. The couple lives in Jacksonville, Florida. They have three adult children and six grandchildren. Learn more about Free Will Baptist chaplain ministry: www.FWBNAM.com.