My Son Always Resided in My Cell Phone....Until.......?

For the last three years, I have considered that my youngest son, Tyler, has been residing steadily in my cell phone. I'm convinced that God was thinking of mothers when he placed the concept of texting in the mind of communication wizards. In a mom's heart, TEXT stands for "Total Emotional Xanadu Time." It is a time of utter peacefulness to know that our offspring are happy, safe and well. This communication scenario was exemplified after Tyler "launched off" to NC State. He is an active participant in there ROTC program which aims at teaching self-sufficiency and independence.

In this fast-paced modern world in which we live, there is beauty in the instant gratification avenue offered through cell phones. I have known not to overuse this capacity to reach him, so that he can have his "own" life. But it has been truly wonderful when I am able to connect, if needed. I love the beautiful sound my phone makes indicating that Tyler has sent a text message letting me know he's back safely from an out of town event. I have especially enjoyed when he will text me to tell me he has done well on a test. My heart has smiled a lot these past three years because of the beauty of texting. However, this all came to a S -- C -- R -- E -- E -- C -- H -- I -- N -- G halt on July 1^st. It will last until July 28th!! Per my calculations, that is almost a WHOLE month (672 whole hours!!) without any semblance of Total Emotional Xanadu Time!

The reason: Tyler headed off to Joint Base Lewis McChord in Washington state (that's way, way, way across the country, you know!) for an intense ROTC program. They are not allowed to have any form of communication via phones or computers in order to focus on their duties at hand. The old-fashioned style of handwritten letters has been the only way in which to connect with him. The mailman has become a beautiful vision to me as he approaches the house and my heart races in hopes of another letter -- and another letter -- .I have had fun picking out humorous cards that I hoped would make him smile after a tough day. The only bothersome aspect comes while I'm addressing the envelope to Warrior Forge (Yikes! It conjures up a scary image) There is definite beauty in texting, but I have rediscovered the power of the written word of late, as well. In addition, I have learned the power of letting go of "life stuff" beyond my control. I just say a sweet prayer for him every morning and night and pass it over to God's watchful eyes.

I'll have to say that I am proud of Tyler's devotion to the military and his interest in our country. It has also been quite an education and learning experience for me. I have tried in earnest to familiarize myself with the military lingo and basic understanding of their format throughout his ROTC involvement. In spite of my effort to try to stay abreast, I made a faux-pas once in an effort to get more information about an upcoming high school JROTC event. I asked my son a particular question about the event and he wasn't sure of the answer. I said, "Why don't you just ask Sergeant Carter?" My son said, "Mama, he's from Gomer Pyle!!" I was as stunned as my son that it fell out of my mouth. We both broke up laughing. Sergeant Carter had obviously been residing in the recesses of my mind for over thirty-some years. (That was without ever watching reruns on TV Land?)

So the countdown is on -- Four days until I am once again swept up into the wonderful world of "Total Emotional Xanadu Time" when "Sergeant Carter" lets Tyler come home!!!