He means well, but...
Steve, my husband of 5 years, just doesn't get it. I admit, my emotions tend to be a bit more "colorful" than the average person's (a trait I share with my son-sorry, baby!) . It would also be fair to say our family life was pretty much a Dr.Phil show waiting to happen. Until age 12, life for Chris was basically "him and me." Then, just as he's entering the infamous "teenage years," along comes this new guy. Newlyweds, "step" roles, teenager and eventually, baby- we were the anti-Brady's.
Now, Chris didn't end up in the Army less than two months past his 17th birthday because of some well-executed plan. It was more a series of back-firing boundary tests that ultimately landed him in the recruiting office.
Chris has made life interesting-to say the least-these past few years. I'm thankful the Army is giving him the opportunity to make a difference in his life. I am extremely proud of him for making a mature commitment to better himself and serve his country-despite the inherent danger and hard work that comes with being a soldier. I truly believe he will be a better man because he found the strength to raise his hand and take an oath.
And yet...three days after he left, I still cry for him. Steve reminds me of all the things I previously listed- these things I already know. I let him console me, because he means well. But he just doesn't get it.
My little boy- the child that, for years, needed me to tuck him in every night, or he couldn't go to sleep- my "you and me against the world" partner for 12 years- my 1st baby...is gone! I can't see him when I want, I can't talk to him when I want. I can't comfort him or protect him. I can't hug him. I can't tell him how much I love him. He is in another state, but might as well be the moon- because he is gone, and I can't speak to him, and I love this child, and I miss this child-and it has nothing to do with the Army. I didn't just say good-bye to my son that Wednesday morning, I let him go...and it hurts like hell.
Now, Chris didn't end up in the Army less than two months past his 17th birthday because of some well-executed plan. It was more a series of back-firing boundary tests that ultimately landed him in the recruiting office.
Chris has made life interesting-to say the least-these past few years. I'm thankful the Army is giving him the opportunity to make a difference in his life. I am extremely proud of him for making a mature commitment to better himself and serve his country-despite the inherent danger and hard work that comes with being a soldier. I truly believe he will be a better man because he found the strength to raise his hand and take an oath.
And yet...three days after he left, I still cry for him. Steve reminds me of all the things I previously listed- these things I already know. I let him console me, because he means well. But he just doesn't get it.
My little boy- the child that, for years, needed me to tuck him in every night, or he couldn't go to sleep- my "you and me against the world" partner for 12 years- my 1st baby...is gone! I can't see him when I want, I can't talk to him when I want. I can't comfort him or protect him. I can't hug him. I can't tell him how much I love him. He is in another state, but might as well be the moon- because he is gone, and I can't speak to him, and I love this child, and I miss this child-and it has nothing to do with the Army. I didn't just say good-bye to my son that Wednesday morning, I let him go...and it hurts like hell.
posted by Melissa at 9:18 PM
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