My son has been deployed overseas for nine months. He comes home in three weeks, and while I am overjoyed, I am also worried about the invisible wounds he may carry. I have heard his voice change over these months. He left as a bright-eyed young man full of purpose. On our video calls now, I see a weariness in his eyes that no amount of reassurance can erase. He tells me he is fine, but a mother knows. There are things he has seen and done that he will never share with me, and I understand that. I worry about the transition back to civilian life. I have read the statistics about veterans struggling with PTSD, depression, and isolation. I have heard stories of families torn apart by the invisible injuries of war. All I want is for my son to come home whole — in body and in spirit. I want him to find peace, to sleep without nightmares, to laugh freely again. I want him to know that whatever he has been through, he is not alone. I am asking for prayers for his safe return, for healing of whatever wounds he carries, for patience and understanding from our family, and for the support systems he will need in the months ahead.