There were no rainbows and unicorns on Father's Day. I felt like my soul had been crushed. As the day turned into night and I knew it wasn't going to happen, I couldn't even cry. I went to my room and just laid there. I didn't even turn on the television as that would have been too much for me to deal with.
I still haven't gotten a call. Still haven't heard his voice. It has been over a month.
What I have gotten have been letters. These are now my most prized possessions. They reside in my fire proof safe, and besides Dave, Ryan and Max, they are what I would grab if I have to evacuate my house.
These letters are amazing. When one comes in the mail, I can almost forgive the Post Office for all the days that I come in empty handed. I get a glimpse into his life, and they give me hope that I can make it for another five weeks.
I know other companies have gotten phone privileges, but it seems that there are a few kids who can not find it in themselves to remain quiet during formation. When graduation comes, I want to have a word with these kids. All I need would be 5 minutes, but I suppose if they are not afraid of the Drill Sargents, they will not be afraid of me. Here is where they would learn that there are few things scarier than a mother that has been kept from hearing the dulcet tones of her son's beautiful voice.
In the meantime, I will continue to stalk my mailbox for some camouflage paper and the chicken scratch that keeps me going.
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