A few things have happened since I last wrote you. I wrote a book, it’s mostly about you, and a little about another woman who doesn’t really matter too much in comparison. It’s what you would have wanted me to do. You always had so much faith in me as a writer, even when I didn’t believe it to be true myself — in fact, especially then.
So, besides writing the book, I’ve been writing another one. It’s about the background radiation of bullshit (excuse my language) that I deal with from day to day. However, it’s also written in a happier voice than the one that said goodbye to your body for the last time.
Apart from that, my Article 15 expired the day I decided to write this. That means I can reenlist and PCS without restriction. It’s the end of the long road I’ve walked since I made my last horrible mistake. I remember you not yelling at me when I told you, and I remember all the times I called you to council me when I was so scared that the world was falling around me. You told me I was strong enough to get through it, and you were right. So, today, when I learned that my punishment was finally over; the first person I wanted to call was you.
That used to happen a lot more often, and this is the first time it has in a while. It still hurt me as bad as when I first found out you were gone. But, this isn’t a sad story. This is a story of recovery and transformation. Even though it will never stop being hard, the hard gets outweighed by the good more and more every day. Soon the days I wake up happy will outnumber the days I wanted to join you on that long lost shore that lies behind the endless horizon of living. I know you’re proud of who I am now, because who I am now is who I was before I made the mistake of forgetting what you taught me.
I can’t visit you on Sunday, but I want you to know that from the bottom of my heart I appreciate everything you did, and everything you gave up for us. Because I can’t visit you Sunday, I want to wish you a happy Mother’s Day: I’ll never forget to call you again.
Best wishes, love your head,