Mostly, though, I miss my family. They’d be surprised to know that.
My family would be surprised to know how much I miss them. Every day, I think of them, talk about them—but sadly, hardly ever to them. It’s already hard enough being away from them, and hearing their tears in their voices through the receiver makes it even tougher.
I miss being able to jump in my truck and drive over to see them whenever I want, especially when they need me. I miss my truck, and just driving whenever I felt like it.
I miss watching the sunset; the window here is too small to see much, and there’s always too much light around the perimeter to see the sky. I miss lying on the grass at night, watching the stars twinkle, with my cows stirring softly in the background.
I miss the quiet, the darkness, the sunsets, my truck, my family, and my cattle. Mostly, though, I miss my family. They’d be surprised to know that.
