Finally...A Real Letter From My Recruit

Justin has been gone for 2 1/2 weeks now and I've been just dying to get a "real" letter from him. I received the photocopy telling me his mailing address, and some do's and don'ts (DO write often - DO NOT send candy) but haven't been able to relax because I wasn't sure how he was really doing.

Today it finally arrived - my first letter. He is making friends and enjoying himself (when he has time to consider it) but has a big case of homesickness. It's completely understandable - he has never been away from his family for an extended period of time, and certainly never been so disconnected from all of us. I have been writing daily in the hopes it will help, but seeing "Please write me" in his handwriting nearly broke me. I know this is all part of becoming a man and a Marine, but as his mother I just want to make it all better, RIGHT NOW. I have a feeling this is why recruits don't have phone privileges. And it's probably for the best, because if he knew how sad I am about him missing me it would likely make it that much worse.

So he's becoming a Marine, and I have to become a Marine Mom. Who ever knew it would be so tough?

You see Justin above, wearing his brother's "Rainbows Are Gay" shirt, direct from London. He is surrounded by a few of the lovely ladies from his graduation class while they celebrate at his going away party. I really miss that smile.

What's a Mother To Do?

My son Justin decided he wants to be a Marine. I've no idea who set the thought in his head (lucky for he/she/it) but I can tell you that once it got there it was impossible to change his mind. Not that I really tried, it seemed that if this was the path he has chosen, I should be supportive. So I did, or at least, I did my best. I would, on occasion, ask if he was sure this is what he wanted. And when he replied, "Yes, Momma, I'm sure" (which he did 100% of the time) I would smile and move on to another subject.

But then it was time to let him go, literally. I had to drop him off at his recruiter's office and watch him climb into a bus along with a group of like-minded kids, each making this journey, each for a different reason. I got a bit emotional thanking his recruiters for their support and promises to keep me informed, but I'm sure they've seen that enough times it wasn't too terribly uncomfortable for them. I walked him outside and he turned to hug me goodbye. I thought I really handled myself well, and was doing a great job of keeping myself together. Then I realized he had said my name a couple of times and was trying to unwrap himself from my arms.

Well, I tried.

He has arrived safely in San Diego, and is doing what he wanted to do.

I think it's interesting that he was reading a book called "Becoming A Man" the week before he left. When I asked him about it, he reminded me of something I said to him years ago, which he apparently never forgot - "You don't become a man simply because you get older - it's something you have to work at." My sadness at him being gone is tempered by a sense of pride that I can't verbalize without getting all emotional. He has set a lofty goal for himself, and is doing his very best to make it happen.

Justin made me promise to post a picture of him being goofy, to remind me of how much he tried to make me laugh that morning. The one above was taken as we were preparing to head into town. And it works like a charm, most of the time.