"But tonight I want to get my mind off of those things. For the past few days I’ve been really missing home. I know that because I’ve come this far I can’t quit, but I’ve desperately wanted to for the past few days. I can’t stand the “lifestyle” I live here. It’s so frustrating to live in a prison-like environment. I would tell you everything, but there are too many details to list. Ok, here’s one: every single night before lights-out we have “hydration formation”. At formation, we chug a full canteen of water (one quart) before going straight to bed. At this point, I’m so tired of getting up in the middle of the night (every night) to pee that I’ll probably just wet the bed tonight. Yes, I’m 25 years old, and I’m a bed wetter."
I couldn't help laughing in spite of how sad I was for him, for how much he wanted to go home. I was sad for Private Ryan, for me and our girls, for how much we are all longing to be together again. For simple delights like having dinner together, driving to the park, holding hands. But that bedwetter thing gave me a glimpse into the light that can be found it you look.
If you look, you can see joy in things that are not joyful. You can see the end of the tunnel, you can see as the light gets closer and closer that though the journey is long and grueling, you are slowly but surely getting closer to finishing and seeing the bright light of the sun again. I'm glad we are getting there, that the days until he comes home are getting shorter and shorter in number all the time, and I hope that he, too, can find joy in unexpected places in the meantime.
