Sunday arrived. Who knew the day we
had to drive Patrick to the recruiters office in Hatboro, PA, for the start of
his journey that we would be in the middle of a mini snow storm. Of course, it
was totally miscalled by the weather forecasters. That's the job to have; you
look at a weather map, chose what you think will happen with a 50% chance of
getting it wrong. No worries, you get to keep your job! Just saying...Patrick was to arrive at the
office 2:00 PM, so we left our home at 1:00 PM - plenty of time. In normal
circumstances the drive would take 30 - 40 minutes, tops. Patrick was only to
take with him a photo ID, his social security card, and address book. He wore
his high tops, jeans, a tee shirt and a short sleeve button down shirt. He
refused to wear a hoodie, sweater or jacket because "We're not allowed
Mama." Patrick explained this to me as if I was a three-year old who just
didn't know any better. I tried to get
Patrick to at least carry a hoodie in the car, after all he could always take
it off when we got there, but apparently it would take too much time to get it.
Seriously?
Every road was slow and slushy. A
couple of roads were closed. I believe we hit every single red light on the way
there. It's at times like these where it becomes clearly apparent that Patrick
is his father's son. Neither one has any patience. Mark, (my DH), was totally
white knuckling the steering wheel. Patrick was in the back seat totally white
knuckling the over head bar. Every time we encountered a red light, both of
them did their imitation of a deflating tire; you know the sound, a gasp
followed by the huge sigh.
Patrick was so nervous that we
weren't going to get there on time that at one point I thought he was going to
jump out of the car and jog to Hatboro! We did arrive right on time. We were
the first ones there! The sergeant who was driving to Ft. Dix, NJ, was picking
up a few recruits in Quakertown, PA, and was delayed due to the weather. The
staff sergeant who was to give the recruits a quick indoctrination before
leaving the office was tied up in traffic as well. An hour behind schedule, the
sergeant came in with three recruits who were heading down with Patrick. Each
one had on either a hoodie or jacket. I immediately looked at Mark who just
shook his head. Mark is very good at just shaking his head; those frustrating quiet
alpha males! As soon as the sergeant walked in, he looked at his wrist watch.
The sergeant checked out Patrick's
identification, turned to Mark and I and said, "This is the time for
good-bye's Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds". I am not sure what look Patrick or Mark
had on their faces when this was said since my eyes immediately formed tears
and blurred my vision. Time flew right out the window into the snow.
I grabbed Patrick's neck to pull him
down for a hug, a kiss to his cheek and whispered 'I love you mi Patricio', (my
Patrick). I was proud that I didn't turn into a blubbering mess. That came as I
watched Mark hug Patrick good-bye; after that my tears flowed non-stop. After the hugs of good-bye, Mark started to
head out but my mind raced with a million and one thoughts and pictures. The implosion of thoughts and pictures took
me to Patrick being born, his first time getting on the school bus, his First
Communion, prom, graduation from high school, Patrick with his two brothers,
Jeff and Phillip. I had no words other than to whisper to the heavens, 'Lord,
keep him safe, free from harm. I leave him in Your care' and left. The
good-byes took less than three minutes.
The ride home although still with
snowy roads and traffic, was quiet. Mark and I were both lost in our thoughts.
As I walked into our home I knew that this was it; new phase of life was
beginning for me. The beginning started as we waited for Patrick's one and only
telephone call advising that he had arrived at his destination. Time dragged on.
Patrick called on Tuesday,
12/10/2013 at 12:03 AM. He said, "This is Recruit Reynolds. I have arrived
safely at Parris Island, SC. Please do not send me any packages or bulky items.
I will be writing you in 10 days with my address. Thank you for your
support". The call lasted 19 seconds. That was it. Nineteen seconds of
scripted words from my son. No time for Mark and I to say 'I love you', 'Be
safe', no time to ask him any questions.
So, we move forward with the
knowledge that he is in the care of the US Marine Corps with the goal of
becoming a US Marine. As we wait for his first letter, we move on; going to
work, to eat, to sleep, to live. Just as time, we move forward.
Thank you for sharing and such great detail. I'll be thinking of Patrick as he starts this new journey, love, Guillermito.
ReplyDeleteWow, you're a great writer Terry! We'll say a prayer for keeping Patrick safe!
ReplyDeleteDave and Brigitta
Blessing on y'all and your son.
ReplyDelete