When: March 23-24, 2011
Where: Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri
Why: Graduation from Basic Training...for our eldest son, PV2 Beverage, Lyford.
There are some things that you don't see every day. It is not uncommon to see really inappropriate bus stop shelters in Boston. At an Army base, this is what you'll see. Imagine how much nicer a world we 'd have if we each had a battle buddy.
I wondered, as we walked around the Base before Family Day began, how I would recognize my son. In hundreds of young men and women, all dressed alike, with similar haircuts, with hat-brims pulled down low over their eyes, how would I find MY son? How would I recognize him in that sea of digital camouflage?
And there he was. Up front. With 2nd Platoon's Phase Banner. I saw him quickly as they came marching up the street in cadence. And he saw me. And his suppressed grin gave him away...to his mother who knew it best. Then he slipped into his soldier's straight face at the front of his Platoon. No mother was prouder than this one.
Yeah, he looks good...ok, really, he looks great.
(The kids said this is my "Where's Waldo?" shirt. Perhaps that's how he could find me in the middle of all those similar looking people in civvies. )
Did I mention that I was the really, REALLY proud Mom there that day?
4 hours on Base...and he ate Pizza. Happy Soldier.
I won't share that picture because it might embarrass him.
When: Graduation Day.
When 250 Soldiers march down the street...it's an impressive sight. When they are all in dress blues it's more impressive. When they stand in front of you and announce themselves, well, it's something else.
This part though. This part could choke up any red-blooded American. And this Mom. (Feel free to choke up here too.)
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| Note smile on Soldier's face. Looks pretty good in the beret too. |
Proud parents. (Yeah, I let Soldier's Father get in a picture too.) The dh made sure that I noted the evidence of the gene pool...note the height of the son as compared to the father and mother. So glad he is at LEAST taller than I am. His sister wasn't so lucky. I'm holding out for the youngest son to top me as well.-- Anyway, looks great, doesn't he? (Feel free to comment about what a handsome kid I've got here.)
We were blessed with about 10 hours with our boy that day.
We fed him...several times. Hooked him up on Skype so he could spend some time with his siblings joking around, playing chess and eating chocolate chip cookies that his brother made for him.
We brought him some clothes, and took some things from him. I was pleased to take him a phone. One he could use...often. I hugged him...and talked to him. And then we took him back to his barracks...too soon for me, but in time for formation... and left him with a bunch of other young men and women to go to places spread around the country to learn more things...different things.
He left for Arizona the next day, and we came home.
This is better now because we can use the phone, or email, or Skype. But we still miss him.
Oh, and did I say that I was proud of him? Yeah, I guess I did.
I'm proud of him. Very.
