To my dear son,

I am sitting on the window ledge watching the raindrops ripple down the window, listening to the tears hammering on the rooftops, flooding the streets with sadness. The old street lamp outside the house is still broken, still flickers in the dark. It reminds me of those winter days we have during the typical British summer: when you would go out with your sister, splashing happily in the puddles on the cobbled streets. Suited in your favourite black coat and those foul green welly boots which you wouldn’t let anyone dispose of: enveloping yourself in the arms of your grandmother’s scarf, each layer knitted with love and affection.

The family came round at the weekend for Sunday dinner. It wasn’t the same. I know it was one of your favourites. I remember you would come downstairs because you could smell the meat roasting in the oven, or the strong smell of gravy which drifted through the kitchen. You lurked in by the worktops, hoping to get a little bit of the food before it reached the table.

I admire your courage and bravery; I can’t imagine what you must be feeling. Being so far from home and having no proper place to sleep must be incredibly hard. I am so proud of you but we miss you terribly. You are such a patriotic man, and then again you always were the adventurous one, willing to protect your sister. Lisa had the baby yesterday. It’s a blue one: Thomas James. Yes, she named him after you. She does still care, of course she does. As time goes on she will come to terms with the fact that you didn’t leave her because you want to be a murderer, but that you want to help your country and keep her safe.

These past few months have been the longest of my life. I know there is a chance that you may not even read this letter or that it may fail to even reach you but I pray that we will be together again soon. You left us as a boy you will return to us as a man; a better one than most can ever be.

I still hold the teddy bear when times get hard. Its fur still smells of the strong cologne grandpa Joe gave you. It’s obvious you still cuddled him sometimes. I remember when this was the size of you; maybe even a bit bigger. You took him everywhere with you, it was an unbreakable emotional attachment, almost like your first day at school. It was the most difficult day of your childhood, for me anyway. You clung to my leg, screaming, crying, and refusing to release me. When I came to pick you up it was a completely opposite scenario. I couldn’t pull you away from all your new friends. The excitement in your voice was unbelievable; it brought a smile to my face.

Stay strong and keep safe.

I love you.

Mum x

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