First letter to Afghanistan (sorry for the sort-of censor).
Translucent leaf theme.
I don’t even have his address yet.
Our last video chat before his deployment…
so many different emotions.
Love you, babe.
A thought for those who think the vaccine might be some conspiracy to make a lot of people sick, or paralyzed, or infertile…
The vaccine is MANDATORY for the entire military. Do you really think the gov’t would chance hurting our man power? They’re working way too hard to keep up the numbers…
(I work in an Army hospital… so I’ve already gotten the vaccine. Still alive and kicking.)
We lost… but this is still awesome.
Some of the offense! Love these girls!
With age comes responsibility. And with that responsibility comes the potential for disaster. For danger. For the realities of life to hit you unexpectedly and without warning.
It’s tough for our parents. They spend years shielding us from the bad stuff. They create a safe environment and coddle us until we’re strong enough to go out and face the world alone. And that’s when it begins. We start seeing things we never thought possible. Eventually… we experience the things they were hiding us from.
I can hear sadness in my father’s voice when I call and tell him the latest news. We used to discuss something I’d heard on the radio or seen on the television. Now I give him first-hand accounts of a world he never wanted me to know.
Sometimes he becomes silent and I can tell he’s forcing back the words, “Why are you in that profession? Get the hell out and come home.”
But this is reality.
I have to hope that the old adage “ignorance is bliss” is only true some of the time. I want to walk away with a better understanding of people, of the way things work… and get used to the fact that no matter how much I learn, life will be unpredictable.
And dad doesn’t tell me to run away. He only pauses, and says in a voice mixed with worry and pride,
“Well, honey… be careful out there.”
