When Daredevil was in bootcamp, my sanity was saved by a group of ladies whose sons were at Parris Island too. We forged a bond a year ago and still stay in daily contact. They are my lifeline sometimes.
One of the mothers has a son who is deployed to Afghanistan right now. Up until a week or so ago, she had heard from him about every other day. Now, nothing for over a week. Needless to say she is worried. The Causalities board is constantly checked (it is under maintenance at the time I write this). There have been five causalities in the past week in Afghanistan but the names have not been released. She rationalizes that if something had happened she would have heard something by now.
But, we, mothers, know that may work on your head but not your heart. The image of men in dress blues showing up at your door haunts your dreams and thoughts. We have all been worried for her. We have kept her son in our prayers. She is a woman of faith also. She has been praying constantly. She feels a little better after an incident this weekend. She relates,
"I did have a funny experience -- anyone who believes in God knows that he has a great sense of humor. I was at (the) Lake this weekend, walking down a path bordered by farmland on one side and forest on the other. I was thinking about (son) and I stopped for a quiet moment of prayer and added, "Please God, just give me a sign that my son is OK." I walked another few feet and then turned to go back to the cottage. Right there, very close to the spot where I'd been standing when I stopped was a very old rusted SIGN for some sort of fertilizer or weed-killer called Ora-K. The "O" and the "K" were large and the other letters were smaller and faded with age. Ha! I got my "sign," alright. I laughed all the way back to the cottage. I suppose I ought to relax now, huh?"
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