Oct. 14, 2002 ~ He's gone.
Back to the Base, back to the Army, away from home, away from the room next door... where I could hear him sleeping at night. We got up early this morning, about 4:30 a.m., to get to the airport in time for his early flight.
He's been gone for a few years now. Other than a couple of times when he came back to stay for a while, he's been on his own since he was 18. But I was cleaning up his room, after he left -- changing the linens and all -- and I saw he had left some things behind. On purpose. Books, photos, things close to his heart. It dawned on me that no matter where he lives, he still thinks of this place as home.
At a restaurant yesterday, some friends approached our table and said to Soldier Boy, "Thanks for protecting our country!" In this small town, that tends to happen fairly often. People telling him "Thank you." How wrong that sounds. To me, he is still my baby, and I think that someone should be protecting him.
There's more I could say, but time is short. I need to do a few chores and then get ready for work.
My heart hurts. Not much to do about that, is there? Just carry on.
All rights reserved
_______________________________