Having To Improvise When All Else Fails

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Story ID:	1613
Written by:	K. L. Farnum
Story type:	Story
Location:	Dry Ridge U. S. A.
Year:	2003
Person:	My Son, Michael

Having to Improvise When all Else Fails

As a mother with a son in Iraq, I spent many hours at the computer. I sent out many e-mails letting him know how things were at home. I was not one to write letters, and I’ll explain why. When my brother first left for Viet Nam in 1967, he had not been gone very long and I decided to set down and write a nice long letter. I felt good knowing that he would soon be hearing from me. He had not been gone one month when the police came to my door, and asked me to call my father. I did, and that’s when I found out my brother was injured, and not expected to live. It wasn’t long after that, he passed away, and my husband and baby son and I drove to Alabama for his funeral. When we came home, there was my letter I had sent to my brother, stamped deceased, undeliverable. I kept the letter, but since then I have found it very hard to write a letter. For some reason I can send an e-mail, I think what it is, I know it won’t be coming back to me. So when my son went to Iraq, I mailed out many e-mails.

What was great was I got plenty of e-mails from him. But the topper was that many times I would get a letter, from him, snail mail, which was a shear delight. Going to the mail box and finding that welcome letter amongst all the bills and junk. I didn’t have the heart to tell him why I sent no letters. After all the boxes we would send out, with all the things guys and girls needed, we would try to fill out their wish lists, like On Valentines Day we filled bags with candy for 39 guys and sent it out. Then there was Easter, where we fixed bags full of candies for as many guys. You never really knew what to send as you never knew what they were short of. It’s amazing the things they need, that you and I never even think of. The most wonderful keeper that I got was a post card made out of a MRE box. My son had torn the back off of a MRE (meals ready to eat) box and made a post card out of it. I wish I had seen the look on the face of the post person that put that one through.

It wasn’t long after that we sent him writing paper and envelopes. I still do not write many letters. It’s something I have to work on. He informed me that everything we sent they would share, which made me feel good about that. Hopefully the young men and women over there now have family’s sending them things they need.

@ K.L. Farnum

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