For kids’ sake, Iraq War widow stays optimistic

MECHANICSBURG, Pa. (AP) — From Iraq, Navy Cmdr. Philip A. Murphy-Sweet cheerfully watched on a Web cam last year as his three kids walked down the stairs at home and greeted him on Christmas morning.

“He was so excited,” says his wife, Cheryl Murphy-Sweet, 40. “He was still with us.”

On April 7, a month before he was due home, the military supply officer was killed by a roadside bomb.

Now, Cheryl and the kids — ages 5, 11 and 14 — are observing the first Christmas without him — one of a string of firsts they’ve endured together as they chart a new future.

Despite the pain, Cheryl has set a tone of optimism as they move forward, determined that her children find joy in life and are not “fearful to live.”

“I can’t shelter them from this tragedy, but I want them to learn the healthy side of this and be able to still look forward to whatever life has to offer,” she says.

Her husband, who was 42, is among more than 890 U.S. troops who died in Iraq in 2007 — at least 30 of whom have ties to Pennsylvania. A total of more than 3,800 troops have died in Iraq since the start of the war in 2003.

Cheryl met Philip at the University of Idaho, where he was in the Reserve Officers’ Training Corps program. They married soon after graduation and moved around as they juggled his career as a military officer and hers as an accountant.

She remembers evenings watching their kids play outside as she and her husband sipped wine on the back porch of their home here in central Pennsylvania.

“I think no matter what, he was proud to be with me. He always bragged about each one of us and was genuinely happy about us,” she says. “There are things you take for granted until it’s gone.”

In 2004, he was stationed at the Naval Inventory Control Point in Mechanicsburg in central Pennsylvania. As the Iraq war dragged on, it became clear he would eventually have to go to Iraq, so he accepted a six-month assignment that was later extended.

Before he left, he spent a day alone with each kid.

He took Olivia, 14, horseback riding.

He had a “man’s day” with Seth, 11, going out to breakfast together and then test-driving a sports car he had no intention of buying.

He played all day in the yard with Lauren, 5, and let her get as dirty as she wanted.

In Iraq, as a supply officer, one of his jobs was to turn a former Iraqi army base into a facility where judges could safely live and work. That meant traveling by convoy in dangerous areas to make sure work was being done by contractors.

Every day, he called his wife, at 2 p.m. here, as he prepared for bed.

The dreaded call that her husband had been killed came when she was making S’mores with the kids at a bonfire at a friend’s house in rural Virginia.

The response from the community was humbling, she says. Casserole after casserole arrived at the house and hundreds of children lined the street as the motorcade made its way to the funeral.

The family had planned to celebrate Philip’s return with a trip to Disney World.

Since the tickets had already been purchased, they decided to still go, one of the first tests of Cheryl’s new approach to life.

Outside the park, “we made a pact that no matter what we were going to have fun,” Cheryl says.

And Olivia says they did.

There are still reminders of their father everywhere. For Seth, it’s the steep hill behind their house where he once playfully sent his father tumbling as they were sledding.

“I pulled him down with me,” says Seth, who is shy but lit up as he told the story.

For Olivia, it’s the soccer field where her dad used to cheer her on loudly — embarrassingly loud. She still sometimes forgets her dad isn’t around, requesting a table for five instead of four at restaurants.

The four recently traveled to California as part of a program known as Snowball Express that brings together children who lost a parent in Iraq. Olivia still talks regularly to two of the girls she met.

Cheryl is now taking some time off from working.

She has traveled to Norfolk, Va., to give a “widows’ talk” to casualty officers in training. And she is hoping to work with groups like those that have helped her family.

“I don’t want to take this experience and not learn from it in a good way because ultimately the kids are watching me,” she says. “This is a part of life and I want them to not be fearful to live and always look over their shoulder — that’s not the right answer either.”

For Christmas, the four are visiting family in Idaho. It’s their first trip to Idaho since Philip died.