Normal
0
false
false
false
EN-US
JA
X-NONE
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:”Table Normal”;
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-parent:””;
mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin:0in;
mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:Cambria;
mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;}
interaction most moms around the world have with sons, watching them rush off
to school, to college or to work. There wasn’t that touch of mundane routine, or
sense of rushing as kids slam car doors and meld into crowds of shuffling,
faded jeans, backs stooped by book-filled packs and ears plugged into music.
secure knowledge most moms have; that he would be home for dinner, or maybe for
the weekend and that life would simply go on. No. It wasn’t that at all. I did
not know when he would be back or when I would be allowed to talk to him next.
out with friends, watched movies, bought jeans at the GAP–and left a mess
wherever he went. For one week, he was a kid just like those other kids moms
drop off at the bus stop.
see he wasn’t a kid anymore. Wearing his crisp, clean army uniform, he dragged
a huge duffle bug, dropping it at the front door.
him back to the army. I know it was hard for him to shake off his civilian life
with oodles of free time, staying up late and having laughs with old buddies.
“Which movie should we see?” “Wanna to go to the beach? “Feel like sushi tonight?”
off we drove. I gave him a hug, said “I love you” and watched him place his bag
under a bus, then disappear. I tried to
feel normal, but something stirred deep inside. I was saddened that it had to
be like this. In our modern world, living in a high-tech Western country, we
still have to give away our boys for three long years.
I drove back home to an empty house and before I sat at my
desk, I thought I would peek into his room. It was a mess. Damp towels covered the
floor. Socks were scattered. Pants and shirts sat in heaps.
up the clothes, sorting the clean from the dirty. I slowly folded the pants and
neatly placed them on hangers. I arranged his shoes in pairs in the closet, fluffed
his duvet and puffed up his pillow, wondering when he would be back in his cozy
bed.
photo credit: terremonto via photopin cc
Discover more from Life in Israel
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
Life in Israel 