There are days when #YourCadetIsMyCadet feels small.
It’s rides to the Denver airport.
It’s knowing which grocery store has the good cupcakes and which one sells sheet cakes big enough for a birthday celebrated in a squad room.
It’s answering texts that start with, “Hey, this is probably a dumb question, but…” and end with something that, if we’re honest, would have rattled us six months ago and now barely registers.
It’s day‑to‑day stuff. Logistics. Caretaking by proxy.
And then there are days when the world shrinks—and expands—at the same time.
The war in Iran creats those days.
It starts the way it always seems to start now. You’re scrolling. Not even looking for anything in particular. And then you see it: a post about military deaths. Names. Ranks. Ages. Places you recognize and places you don’t.
There’s a pause.
Before anything else, there’s relief.
Your eyes skim the list quickly, almost subconsciously, looking for the one name you dread seeing. When it’s not there, you exhale. Your shoulders drop. Your heart steadies.
And almost immediately — because you are who you are now —t here’s guilt.
Because how dare relief be the first thing you feel?
You tell yourself it’s human. You tell yourself every military parent does this. You whisper a prayer. Maybe two. You think about the mothers and fathers whose phones rang instead of staying silent.
Then comes the next thought, quieter but heavier.
Do I know any of them?
You scan again. The names don’t jump out. Different service. Different bases. Different units. Maybe not.
And then it hits you.
You do know them.
Because somewhere along the way, without realizing it, the circle blurred. My kid’s classmates became your kid’s classmates. Your cadet’s roommates became my cadet’s friends. The kids you’ve never met but have worried about, cheered for, cursed alongside, and celebrated quietly from afar – they’re all woven together now.
Even if the names don’t mean anything yet, the truth is unavoidable.
These are our kids.
This is not airport rides or birthday cakes or which Starbucks is closest to which gate.
This is what they signed up for.
And what we signed up to support.
#YourCadetIsMyCadet isn’t about convenience or camaraderie when things are easy. It’s about standing shoulder‑to‑shoulder in the moments when pride, fear, faith, relief, and grief all exist at once – and none of them cancel the others out.
Tonight, say the prayers anyway.
For the names you know.
For the ones you don’t.
For the kids whose parents are holding their breath just like you are.
Because whether we like it or not, whether it feels fair or not—
Your cadet is my cadet.
My Kid The Cadet 