Last summer, on one of our godsons' mom's invitation, my husband and I visited a godson at his camp in North Carolina. He was in the navy. When we arrived, he was in a city T-shirt reminding us of when he was much younger playing with our sons who were also wearing the same style of outfit. That evening, he and his girl-friend, who was also in the military, took us for a look-see inside their camp. It was a self-contained community with its own hospital, postal office, supermarket, and churches. No wonder he wasn't feeling homesick anymore.
The following morning, we were to meet him in a mall just outside the gates. I was surprised to see how different he looked in his uniform. He was not the shy teen-ager I remembered anymore. He looked so confident and commanding and oh, so gentlemanly.
His tactical uniform suited him to a T.
That night, he told us that he might be deployed to a war zone. Although I felt so concerned about his safety, at the same time I couldn't help myself from picturing him with all his military bags and tools supported with
Malice Clips on his back.
Three months later, his mom and I gave a sigh of temporary relief. He called to say his deployment was on hold until his tonsils healed!