What the???? how did I archive instead of posting????

I'm sitting here, safe at home, blessed by God, living in good circumstances, good standards. I'm sitting here immeasurably blessed because I am living in, born in the United States. I know this. I am grateful for this.
I am grateful that my sons, too are citizens of this great nation. I am grateful that my great-grandmother immigrated to the US when she was 18 years old. I am grateful that I am so fortunate, so beloved by God to be able to live in a nation of such freedom. I am even grateful that my son, this child of my heart, my soldier-warrior-hero child MAN is able to contribute to the well being of our nation, to the state of freedom in the world and in the US by his presence in the military. I am grateful that he is a soldier in the best trained military in the world. I do believe that to be true. I know that he is very good at what he does, always alert, always "on" and so smart, so -- okay, every affirmative thing a mother could say about her son - and that is true. Still, even with the occasional IM, even knowing he is in God's hands, under God's protective, loving care...
I miss him.
I miss his absolutely tormenting me with his sense of the absurd (hmm, I wonder where he got that? Yes, I know - the fruit doesn't fall too far from the tree!), I miss hearing his voice. I even miss NOT seeing him because he does, after all, live on base in KY ("like the jelly" he says - what kind of crazy sense of humor is that!!?) but at least stateside I get to talk to him I do get to see him and I know what is going on in his life. With deployment I have so little information.

Yes, my dear son - I know OPSEC, OPSEC, OPSEC. And it's not that I want to know all the details that I would not share with anyone anyway. It's just knowing the details of your life and activities keeps you connected, keeps me connected. It keeps us aware of those little moments in each others days that then keeps us drifting in the same direction. Of LIFE, of knowing that the other is interested and cares. And I am interested, I do care.
It is even not that worry has grabbed a hold of me and turned me inside out with fear. It sometimes does and each breath I take is painful then, painful with the weight and anxiety that I will NOT give voice to. And every time that worry, fear, anxiety comes jumping up from the ocean depths like a monster from the worst place imaginable I give it to God. Sometimes many, many times a day I give it to God. Sometimes I know easily that God already has it.
Usually I know that God has this child of mine - who is a fine and brave and honorable man - safely in His care and it will all be alright.

And I miss him.