The army came into my life when I was 25.
That was the year my son turned five and told me that he was going to be a soldier.
That hasn't changed and he's thirteen now.
Then it meant dreams, hopes, future plans.
Now it means reality, fears, future plans.
This is only four years and three months away from happening. Will we be out of the Middle East by then? Will he be in danger? Will I lose my son to war or terrorists or something even now unimaginable?
How proud will I be when he finishes Basic Training? How proud will I be to tell people that my son is in the Army? How proud will I be seeing him in dress uniform? More so than now? Is it possible to be more proud of someone?
How will it change him? How will it make him more than he is now? How will it change me?
I worry. Yet, if he told me he was going to college and becoming a veteranian or a firefighter or a police officer or a teacher or a doctor, I think I would worry just the same.
I never thought the day would come when I would actually have to contemplate him leaving. Four years and three months is so far away, yet it's tomorrow.
Well. All I can do is prepare him for the mother of all mothers, if he thinks that I'm tough...
Maybe I should send him to the "devil twins" boot camp, maybe that will prepare him.
I hope that these concerns and issues resolve themselves in the next 51 months and that I can be supportive and strong.
I hope that the Army knows what they are getting.
I hope that it's everything he wants and more.
I hope...
2 comments:
Perhaps he'd like to go ROTC through college. That would let him join up higher up the food chain, and (based on my very limited understanding) be the basis for a better military career. It would also give him better options if he decides that the military isn't for him. Just a thought that you could plant in his head.
***FOOTNOTE***
Well, he did it. He's joined the Army. He's in Ft. Benning and is LOVING it.
Proud momma.
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