Writing. Waiting. Hoping.

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.

“I miss you a lot. I didn’t think that I would, but I do.” He wrote. “I hope I hear from you soon.”

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.

Hopefully today.

10 thoughts on “Writing. Waiting. Hoping.

  1. kathy from NJ

    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.

    Reply
  2. Shauna

    I check every day to read about you and your son. What an amazing boy you have raised! I hope you get your letter soon! And June 27 will be here before you know it! (hopefully!)

    Reply
  3. Denise

    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.
    Hugs, mama.

    Reply
  4. Marcilia

    Waiting is hard (as if you don’t already know that!). Hope is a good thing. Today may be the day!

    Reply
  5. Erin

    If that’s what you have to write and it helps, then write it. Anyone who follows you (like lurky little me) is checking every day too to see how you are doing – just write what you need to write and know we’re all behind you :)

    Reply
  6. Amanda

    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.

    Reply
  7. Pingback: Someday | The Wink

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