I want to write every single day, but all I want to write about is how much I miss my son. No one wants to read about how much I miss my son every single day.
When I received two letters from him earlier in the month, it was like opening the most amazing gift on Christmas morning. Even though I was sad and I missed him, I had his handwritten letters that I could read and know that he’s okay.
I have accepted the fact that I won’t be able to hear his voice, but I still need to know how he’s doing. I want to know how he’s holding up to the intense training. I want to know if he had his wisdom teeth pulled. I want to know if he has pneumonia like several other recruits in his platoon. I want to know that he’s getting through this and hopefully, that he’s thriving.
But the last time I received a letter from my son was on May 14th. Every day I wait for the mail. I think I hear the mail truck and I go running to the window to see if it’s there. My heart starts pounding. Surely, there’s a letter today. But for the past eleven days, there hasn’t been a letter.
So, I read the two that I have, over and over and over again.
He didn’t know at the time he wrote that letter that I had started writing and sending letters to him daily. And I’ve been writing every day since.
But I’ve heard nothing from him in return.
The silence is hurting my heart.
“Hopefully today” is what I say every morning when I wake up.
This entry was posted in Becoming a Marine and tagged boot camp, marines, my son on May 25, 2012 by Y.
Please send him some stamped self-addressed postcards. He absolutely does not have any time but if you ask him to please write one line to let you know he is OK he may be able to manage that. But the truth is, he is absolutely physically spent and when he has free time he spends it sleeping. If he was sick you would hear from someone – honest.
Keep writing! It means a lot to him even if he doesn’t write as much to you. They are tired!!
I can really relate to this post. I can’t tell you how many times last summer I drove away from my mailbox with my eyes blurred with tears. I know your son is feeling awful about not being able to write more. They work them so hard and they have no free time. Hang in there, Y. Please post an update when you do hear from him…we all want to know how he’s doing.
There is no worry in the world like the worry that our children bring to us. Even when everything is good, and we know it is – we worry.
Waiting is hard (as if you don’t already know that!). Hope is a good thing. Today may be the day!
I wish I could fill that mailbox for you. I have no words, but these: we are here. We will keep coming and listening and doing our woefully inadequate best to make it hurt less.