Skip to main content

Flight of Honor

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.)

Comments

  1. AnonymousApril 19, 2011 at 1:30 PM

    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

    ReplyDelete
  2. James AApril 19, 2011 at 9:14 PM

    Yup, 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

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Aging sucks.....or does it?

Upon first thought, watching a parent age sucks. Unnoticeable at first. A bit of a stoop, some creaking in the knees, whitening of the hair. The doctor’s visits begin, as do the pills One for high blood pressure, another to thin the blood, and a handful of vitamins to top it off. The signs are there, but it is easier to see him as he has always been. My father, a pillar of strength. Until my pillar was knocked off-kilter. A simple surgery and the mortality of my father looked me square in the eye when the drugs took hold of his brain. Amidst his fidgeting and confusion, I realized…AGING SUCKS! And then….enlightenment dawned upon me….AGING IS BEAUTIFUL Wrinkles tell of smiles while silver hair speaks a life of memories. Knees creaky after years of kneeling in prayer, offering up a lap, and climbing up the stairs for one more kiss goodnight. Almost forty-eight years of memories nestled in my heart. Memories of my father. Taking us to church each Sunday Building and fixing ...
2 comments
Read more

The Challenge of Five

Living alone is easy. Add one more person to the equation and it becomes a bit more challenging – especially when that person is a 13 year old. But in time, we figured it out. Somewhere in there, Beatrice joined us. With Thanksgiving came the joy of the five of us together for the week. And then reality set in as Tony and Sana began their trek back to New Hampshire. Our household of two was now a household of three as Sean made himself a home with us.   For the first five years of Sean’s life it was just he and I. How difficult could it be to have my 22-year-old son living with me again? A mother couldn’t ask for a better son. He is loving, kind, intelligent, and hard-working. He has grown into a fine young man who has lived on his own for the past three years. He has his own way of doing things.   I have my way of doing things. Needless to say, the two clash a bit. I tend to go with the flow and do things (supper, adventures, etc) as the mood strikes. He likes to plan eve...
2 comments
Read more

I Got the Call!

I began the day a bit down in the dumps. (As is very evident from the earlier blog entry of the day.) I was missing my family. Wondering about the risk we took. Uncertain how it would all work out. My brother, Jamie, insisted that Patti and I join his family for a Braves game. He bought us $1 tickets and told us to get to Turner Field. The great thing about Atlanta Braves games on a hot Sunday afternoon is that the turn-out is not very good. We followed Jamie toward his seats on the third base line and sat in a couple of empty ones about 20 rows back. By the end of the game, I was in the first row! Apparently it was too hot for many of the fans. The Braves trounced the Dodgers, 13-1. (Newly added to my bucket list: get to as many of the major league baseball parks as possible. I have been to three this summer alone!) Upon returning ‘home’ I decided to check out the possibility of more jobs. Curiosity led me to Manchester’s website. (Manchester is about 30 minutes away from whe...
3 comments
Read more