I worked as long as I could. I skipped meals. I wore the same coat for two winters.
And then a paperwork problem took out part of my funding, and I went home with the forms.
My mother did not let me finish.
"No."
"You're paying for Rina."
And my father finally looked at me. "We can't pay for two."
And I actually laughed. "You've never paid for mine."
And she said it without a pause. "Rina's different. It matters for her."
I withdrew the next morning.
Two plastic boxes and a kit bag, and I drove to a recruiting office.
And my mother followed me out to the drive.
"So you're giving up?"
And I put the bag in the car and said: "No. I'm choosing something that doesn't depend on you."
The Army was not kind. Cold mornings, wrecked feet, no sleep, and a standard that did not care whose daughter had been anybody's favourite.
