My stepson called a couple days ago. I don't write about TPO (the prodigal one) very often as our contact over the last couple years has been extremely sporadic. Lately, however, we've been talking more and more frequently and that's pretty darn cool. Anyway, TPO called to give me some significant news.
TPO: I called to tell you something.
Me: Oh, yeah? What?
TPO: I got accepted into the Air Force. I leave . . .
Me: AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH
TPO: I knew you'd freak out! I knew you'd think I'm making a horrible decision.
Me: ::regains composure:: Listen to me. I'm not mad. I don't think you've made a bad decision. Given the circumstances, this might be a good thing for you. I'm freaked out because I don't want anything to happen to you. I love you and can't stand the thought of you winding up in Iraq or something. That terrifies me.
TPO: Yeah, that's a possibility. I hope it doesn't happen either. I don't know what else to do and this is a way I can try and get my shit together.
Me: You've made the decision that's right for you. I'm proud of you and I love you.
The military. Fuck.
1 comment:
Derek, I'm sorry about the scare, but I applaud you for loving him enough to support him.
I'd be freaking out, too. Just for the record.
Post a Comment