My (step)son is coming home from Afghanistan. He's actually back on U.S. soil now, but the Army has debriefing/quarrantining/etc. so we won't see him until mid, late August. But he's coming home!
That's great news! I can't imagine the stress of having a loved one serving in the military overseas. I would be proud if any of my boys chose to serve, but I really hope they don't. I don't think my anxious mind could take it.
It's been an unusual experience, I'll give you that. It was hardest on my wife; you know how when you get your brakes done, you notice the difference and say "wow that was worse than I thought!"? She's been like a new person over the last couple days. He's her baby, and it really wore on her. But the hardest part for me was the lack of (reliable) information. In 2020 with Tweeter and Instachat and Facegram, where you know every meal, every sneeze, every defecation from some people, we would hear on the news that a "<the helicopter he is responsible for> was shot down" or "<base in Afghanistan> was bombed" and we'd panic. Then we'd get a text hours later "Hey. Fine." And it would turn out that the base was another base across the mountains, or the helicopter went down two months ago, and that was the "release" story. I suppose that's good because this is real world, and if I can find it on Facechat so can the Taliban, but still. I am careful to say stuff around the rest of the family, because feelings, but in my head, I kind of resigned myself to the fact that if something bad DID happen it would come in the form of a man at my door, not CNN or NBC61 or whatever the local channel is.