This isn't happening...
Wednesday afternoon-Thursday morning:
After Chris left, the rest of my day went like this- Bawled all the way home. Checked phone to make sure the ringer was on. Cleaned mascara from cheeks. Called Mom to let her know Chris was on his way to New Orleans. Cried. Cleaned face. Carried home phone and Chris' cell phone with me everywhere I went. Jumped when Steve called. Listened to his words of support (he just doesn't get it.) Went into Chris' room. It was pretty much the disaster it's always been...looks like he just took off to his friend's house and will be back to throw more candy wrappers under the dresser later on...but it feels empty. I should go ahead and start cleaning it, but I cry some more instead. (I don't have to worry about cleaning my face any more, my make-up is long gone.)
And that pretty much sums up the entire day and most of the night.
Sometime around 3am, the phone rings. I'm startled from my sleep. The caller ID shows it is one of Chris' friends. Mentally exhausted and half asleep, I turn off the ringer. (Chris' cell phone is inches from my head, on my nightstand.) At some point, Steve gets up, dresses, and leaves for work. I am sleeping the sleep of the dead.
8:45am- I wake up with a monstrous tear-induced headache. I am painfully aware of Chris' empty bedroom as I walk to the kitchen for aspirin. I glimpse a glowing green light on the caller ID. I recall the 3am phone call, and go over to clear the name.
Oh no! Please, God-NO! NO,NO,NO,NO,NO,NOOOOOOO! There are two calls-at 4:52 and 4:53am-from the Wyndham Hotel in New Orleans. I had turned the answering machine off the day before to make sure it didn't pick up before I had a chance to answer the phone. I run to the bedroom- OH MY GOD, I turned the ringer off!!! Why didn't I hear Chris' cell phone ring???? I grab it to check for missed calls....and cry (or more accurately-sob, curse and wail.)
This isn't happening...his cell phone is dead.
After Chris left, the rest of my day went like this- Bawled all the way home. Checked phone to make sure the ringer was on. Cleaned mascara from cheeks. Called Mom to let her know Chris was on his way to New Orleans. Cried. Cleaned face. Carried home phone and Chris' cell phone with me everywhere I went. Jumped when Steve called. Listened to his words of support (he just doesn't get it.) Went into Chris' room. It was pretty much the disaster it's always been...looks like he just took off to his friend's house and will be back to throw more candy wrappers under the dresser later on...but it feels empty. I should go ahead and start cleaning it, but I cry some more instead. (I don't have to worry about cleaning my face any more, my make-up is long gone.)
And that pretty much sums up the entire day and most of the night.
Sometime around 3am, the phone rings. I'm startled from my sleep. The caller ID shows it is one of Chris' friends. Mentally exhausted and half asleep, I turn off the ringer. (Chris' cell phone is inches from my head, on my nightstand.) At some point, Steve gets up, dresses, and leaves for work. I am sleeping the sleep of the dead.
8:45am- I wake up with a monstrous tear-induced headache. I am painfully aware of Chris' empty bedroom as I walk to the kitchen for aspirin. I glimpse a glowing green light on the caller ID. I recall the 3am phone call, and go over to clear the name.
Oh no! Please, God-NO! NO,NO,NO,NO,NO,NOOOOOOO! There are two calls-at 4:52 and 4:53am-from the Wyndham Hotel in New Orleans. I had turned the answering machine off the day before to make sure it didn't pick up before I had a chance to answer the phone. I run to the bedroom- OH MY GOD, I turned the ringer off!!! Why didn't I hear Chris' cell phone ring???? I grab it to check for missed calls....and cry (or more accurately-sob, curse and wail.)
This isn't happening...his cell phone is dead.
posted by Melissa at 12:11 AM
2 Comments:
Hey Melissa,
I was in your shoes just two short years ago. My son was 20 when he entered bootcamp, and while he was more than ready for it, I wasn't.
I've been blogging in a journal I set up for him just after he left. Its almost two years later and I still keep up the blog. He's been in Iraq since September. Its crazy, he just graduated from basic in February 2005 and he was sent to war 7 months later. That hardly seems like enough time for the proper training. I fuss a lot, and try to boss his superiors around but they don't listen to me. But they have so far managed to keep my son safe and I am grateful for that.
The tears will lighten once you start hearing your son growing up over the phone. They will increase when you occasionally hear the little boy calling out to you. But he will be fine, and so will you. And he will go on to make the country and the world a better place to live because of his committment at an age when most other kids are goofing off in the mall. And sometimes you'll wish he had chosen to stay home and finish being a kid, but mostly you'll just wipe your tears away and be proud of your son.
http://journals.aol.com/dornbrau/LETTERSTOGABE/
I know you're right- I really do. At this point, however, I just want to hear anything from him. (and I have snail mail just waiting to be sent-geez, I can't even get a mailing address...)
Thanks for sharing your experience- and I love your pages...great sense of humor!
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