My journal of hope and recovery from substance abuse, co-dependency, stress, fears, and childhood.
Friday, September 4, 2009
Son arrived in Iraq - One year to go.
My son made it to Kuwait or Iraq or someplace over there. He was able to post on his Facebook page and then he was gone. I miss him already.
Jim is the youngest of three. His dad and I were divorced shortly after his first birthday. Not having a man in the house make him a stronger person. He always had good male role models, not because of anything I did, he put them in his life on his own. These men were teachers, fathers of friends, and men he knew through a club I was a member of and Grandpa. They were Marines, Army vets, auto mechanics and even an astronaut! The astronaut sent him pictures of planes that had been declassified. Those pictures were his pride and joy. (The picture is from an airshow in California.)
I will never forget the day I felt his pain of all pains. It was when the space shuttle crashed. I knew he was crushed and in shock. I let him stay home from school so he could watch the news feeds. It was the first time I couldn't kiss away his hurt or put a cold cloth on it. The true gift of parenting, I have learned, is not just holding them when they hit a homerun but holding them when they strikeout.
Jim always wanted to be in the Army Infantry and he always wanted to live in Texas. It is all he talked about as a boy. Today his home is in Texas and he is in the infantry 15 plus years. I wonder how many men actually live the dreams of their boyhood? He is a self-made man for sure and he should feel great pride in his accomplishments.