Have come to the conclusion there's just no pleasing people, myself included.
Spent the whole of the last four and a half months limping in a chronic state of anxiety induced near exhaustion towards C coming home again, if we were lucky, and now he's with us and I'm riddled with panic as as he has to fly back out next week. Wonder if I have forever lost the ability to enjoy the here and now without the burden of potential existing or non-existing consequences. Does fear feed on fear.
I just keep looking at him in an almost trance like state of disbelief in that he's actually there in a physical form and not just a sentimental, adored, stash of memory. In essentials he's exactly the same, but definitely more sober and as mother's always know their offspring, I can sense he's grappling with the clash of cultures in which he now exists. He's so so serious. Not that he wasn't capable of gravitas before, it's just he now has that detached coolness harsh lessons learned can instil.
It's like the elephant in the bedroom. Afghanistan is there, but we never mention it. Well unless he does, then it has to be on his terms and respect paid to any sudden desire to change the subject and no longer acknowledge it.
Work is good, a real salvation of normality. H back in Dartmouth, R back at uni and C has popped up to Nottingham to visit friends at uni.
Oh Lord will things ever be the same again.
Fellow soldier's Mum wants the simple life back too.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
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