The Ghost of You

"Cheer up, Mikes. It's only a few months, a year tops." Bob sighed, clapping my shoulder. I peeled my eyes away from a copy of my wedding photo and sighed in response.
"Yeah, I guess you're right."
"You'll be home in no time, okay?"

Basic training was a blur. I couldn't really remember anything they taught us. I guess we were in such rush to get done with it that the instructor didn't seem to give two shits anyways. I looked over at my brother and smiled slightly as he looked back over at me, winking. I looked back down at the pictures I held in my hands and sighed, missing my family: The first one, probably one of my favorites of my sons, was at the hospital the day Alexander was born. 8 pounds, 7 ounces, and gorgeous head hair. Veronica and I were married a little over a 11 months when he was born and we were completely terrified. Well, she was, I guess. I was so intrigued by everything he did that I didn't seem to worry as much as my wife had. The second one was of me and Jamison at the beach in Los Angeles. This was taken a few weeks ago, after his birthday, and he was all smiles.

I can't believe how much I miss them already. It's only been 2 months but I just can't wait to get back home to my family and never let go of them.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the drill sergeant coming in to make his rounds and bid us a good night. I finally rolled over in my bunk and listened to the sounds of Ray strumming his guitar and Frank chiming in somewhere along the lines. Soon, my brother had started to sing as Bob and I snapped our fingers to the beat of another sad song.

Notes