Cpl. Jonathan Vasquez celebrated his 23rd birthday in Afghanistan, where holiday and special occasions "were just another day." It had been five years since he had a proper birthday party with his family, Ruiz said.

During the five years Vasquez served active duty in the Army - including two tours of duty in Iraq and Afghanistan - his mother's vocabulary and habits took on a life of their own. Terms such as IED - improvised explosive device - AK-47 and stop-loss pepper her speech. Researching recent fatalities or checking MySpace just to see if her son had signed on that day became part of her morning ritual.

"I was one of these mad women on the Internet," she said. "I actually signed up for MySpace so I could see if he was logged on - just to see if he was alive. I was obsessed."

The voices on the other end of the support services line came to know Ruiz by name. She would call them regularly when she heard a report of a California soldier being killed.

"The worst part was the not knowing," she said, crying quietly. "Is somebody going to knock on my door today?"

Ruiz stuck to television and news reports like glue.

"I want that information," she said. "To those who are complaining about constantly seeing war on the front page of the news: reporters and photographers are dying out there too to bring us this news. I see the value of their sacrifice."

Vasquez graduated from Gilroy High School in 2004, not long after he enlisted in the Army. His mother signed the papers because he was still underage. Ruiz remembered asking her son where he was going when he headed up to San Jose for military-related meetings.

"Mom, you don't want to know," he would reply.

The Army initially rejected Vasquez on account of his asthma, said Ruiz, who was flabbergasted when she learned of her son's intentions.

"Who volunteers for the Army when there's a war actually going on?" she said.

She said a silent prayer of thanks when he was denied. Her relief was short lived.

From the time her son was a child dressed up in uniform for Halloween to his high school years spent focused on getting into the Army rather than dates or girls, Ruiz said her son was destined to fight for his country.

"How selfish I was to pray that he wouldn't go," she said. "It was his destiny, his lifelong dream."

Ruiz forced herself to do an about face and dutifully kissed her son goodbye when the Army decided to take him in, despite his asthma. While overseas, Vasquez kept in touch with his mother via the Internet. Tight lipped about several close calls because of security reasons, Vasquez rarely expanded on his day-to-day duties, Ruiz said.

One particularly close call etched itself in his memory, but the details are blurry, he said. Behind the wheel of a Humvee, Vasquez and his crew drove over a makeshift bomb that blew a hole in the vehicle's tire and sent shattered glass and shrapnel flying his way. He escaped unscathed, but the incident is one of many that eventually led to his partial hearing loss.

"We were very fortunate that day," he said.

Other days, he and his fellow soldiers weren't as lucky - losing five comrades in a day hit a little closer to home. The death toll of U.S. troops in Iraq reached the 4,000 mark earlier this year.

To boost morale, families sent care packages filled with goodies. Mail day was usually a happy one, Vasquez said. Energy drinks, Ramen noodles and tuna were luxuries the soldiers missed from back home, he said.

Although Vasquez himself never received a care package from Operation Interdependence - a national civilian-to-military delivery system with a chapter in Gilroy - he said the idea behind the program sounded like a good one.

In June alone, the Gilroy chapter shipped 550 individual packages, or C-Rats, to soldiers in Kuwait, said Suzi Kugler, one of the chapter's organizers. A military mother herself, Kugler said the packages, which contain donated hand-written letters, snacks and toiletries, can make all the difference in a soldier's day.

"I am so grateful for this community's support," she said. "Gilroy is so patriotic."

Her own son, Maj. Neil Kugler, 36, also graduated from GHS and attended the United States Military Academy at West Point.

Her own experience is a bit different from Ruiz's, but like any mother does for her child, "I pray a lot," she said. Her son is currently in Afghanistan as part of Operation Enduring Freedom.

During the five years Vasquez was bouncing around between Iraq, Afghanistan and various U.S. military bases, Ruiz gained a newfound appreciation for U.S. veterans, she said.

"It's very frightening," Ruiz said, her voice breaking. "Jonathan might think I'm too dramatic but it was very alarming, very hard for me through those years when he was gone. When he's stateside, it's a lot easier."

The soldiers make sacrifices beyond themselves as well, she said. Families forgo everything from hugs to holidays with their loved ones. Vasquez left for one of his missions with a new wife waiting for him at home. He came back to divorce papers and legal headaches, he said. Despite the heartache of dealing with a marriage that couldn't withstand the tough test of war, distance and time, brighter days loom on Vasquez's horizon.

"Jonathan does not complain," Ruiz said.

He is currently enrolled in a certification course in the Sacramento area to become an emergency medical technician. He hopes to become a firefighter in the Bay Area.

This Independence Day will be a quiet one, maybe a barbecue or a trip to visit his mother, Vasquez said. Happy to be back on somewhat stable ground, Vasquez wouldn't change anything, if given a second chance.

"I would go back and do it again if I had to," he said. "It changed me for the better."