At last I heard from my Marines Boot Camp child. I couldn't write him until he wrote me:
Dear Mom. It's 3am, it's quiet, a slight breeze rustles the tree broughs [all those years of education]. Suddenly, flood lights flare on, the sheets are ripped off your warm bed, and a 300-lb. guy is two inches away screaming out his lungs and spitting all over your face...
...I spend all day screaming nonsense, running in circles, and marching in a big square for 15 hours a day...
...we were issued our service rifles and I got punished for smiling too much when they gave it to me...
...things are improving, but too slowly for some. We've lost four kids so far. Two said they were suicidal and two said they were hearing voices in their heads...
...I love you, Mom. Write....
...P.S....In case you are wondering what religion I am now, I am a Catholic because you get a cookie if you go to the Catholic church...
I had about forty minutes before the last mail pick-up, so I answered:
Hi, Timmy! ...
I knew you would get into trouble for smiling too much at some point. Naturally it would be about a weapon...
...I don’t want you to be a Catholic, but I can understand about the cookie. Tell them you forgot, you are actually Amish, you might get a whole meal...
...The fish is sitting on the picnic table. I don’t know what to do with it. I am afraid of it...
...R. has been asking if I’ve heard from you. Naturally as you can imagine [former Marine], he thinks it is just the coolest thing ever that you enlisted in the Marines. Last night, D. stopped by. He wondered if I had heard from you. Since I hadn’t, he listened to me worrying and shrieking for awhile. I’ll go by and let him know I heard from you and that you are still alive...
...I love you, honey, and miss you so much. Things will never be the same now.
Love, Mom
Dear Reader, I ran into the grocery with the idea of putting a stick of gum into Timmy's letter. All the gum seemed to be fat little pillows. Don't they make flat gum any more? I am so old.
