Running on the treadmill this morning, lost in my own little world at the gym, I glanced up at the television and saw the words, Flight of Honor. It was then that it hit me. My son is in the military. He has chosen a career that could end his life. The reality of that fact came crashing down on me as my eyes filled with tears.
Ever since I can remember, Sean has talked about joining up. In the beginning, it was all about the Navy. He wanted to be just like his Aunt Jen. On several occasions, we went to Bangor International Airport to welcome soldiers coming back from Desert Storm. In high school he talked to recruiters, but chose college instead. During the three and a half years he was in college, he continued to research both the Army and Air National Guard. He took ASVAB tests, talked to veterans, studied and researched. He was going to find a way to make his dream of being a pilot come true. And so, on a snowy day in January, he took his oath. A new chapter began for him.
When he was looking in high school, I couldn’t see him in the military. I aggressively tried to talk him out of it. This time, I encouraged him to follow his heart. It led him into the Army. There were no tears when I said goodbye to him. I was happy he was going after what he wanted.
I have always gotten choked up when seeing veterans in a parade or getting off a plane in uniform or in many other situations. I have friends, relatives, and students who have served our country and continue to serve. However, in the past month, it has changed. A piece of me is now a part of this elite brotherhood. Even as I tear up, pride of my boy overflows within the essence of my very being.
My phone has been turned on ever since I dropped him off on April 4th. The first phone call came the same night at 9:15. A quick call to let me know he had safely landed in Missouri. At 1:15am another one came. Unfortunately, I was in a deep sleep and thought my ringing phone was the alarm clock. I realized my mistake as he was saying, “I love you. Bye.” That was the last time I heard his voice. He did call again last week, but something was going on with Verizon and our phone calls weren’t going through. Unable to hear our voices tell us how much we love him and how proud of him we are, he left a message.
There have been two letters. Both have been short and tell us he is doing well. He talked a little bit about training. Mostly, he talked about how he feels he is doing something important. He writes that he does not have phone privileges for ten more weeks. It will be until July before I get to talk to my boy again. In the meantime, I will train for the Warrior Dash that he challenged me to run. 3.1 hellish miles with extreme obstacles thrown in. I will need to push myself like never before. (Even though I am twice his age, he thinks I can make it through my own boot camp.) I will continue to tear up when seeing anything related to soldiers or veterans. Most importantly, I will write and tell him how much I love him and how proud I am of him.
Note to those reading this:
Mail is the only contact Sean has to the outside world right now. Whether you have met Sean or not, I know he would appreciate your letters. You can write to him at:
PVT Robertson-Victor, Sean
A co. 31st Engr. BN
741 Iowa Ave.
Fort Leonard Wood, MO 65473
BE SURE TO WRITE #2 ON THE BACK OF THE ENVELOPE. (Otherwise he doesn’t get your letter.)
Mandie here we are again. You are a trooper. I love you for who you are. Mail call is one of the most important times of a soldier's life. I will try to write each week of bootcamp. I hope he can achieve his wish of being a pilot. He will certainly be in my prayers. Take care. Love you. Marguerite
ReplyDeleteYup, he is all grown up and a soldier. Been there done that. I am also very proud of him. He is one of my Grand Sons after all. Yes, my first letter went yesterday. It even had a number 2 on the back to guarantee its delivery. Love you Mandie and just as proud of you. Keep writing. It is good therapy for all of us. Love you, Dad
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