thedrifter
04-15-08, 07:33 AM
Letters help bond with brother
By Kendra Sardinha, Staff Writer
GateHouse News Service
Posted Apr 14, 2008 @ 09:49 PM
TAUNTON —
It was back in the middle of January when my 18-year-old brother Tyler left for Marines boot camp on Parris Island.
It’s been about 13 or 14 weeks and, in less than three days — yes, we are absolutely counting down the hours — my family will make the 13-hour trip to South Carolina to watch him get his globe and anchor pin on Friday morning during the graduation ceremony.
It’s been a very long 14 weeks with plenty going on, both with him and training as well as here at home. Letters were slow to get to us at first, given he was moved around a couple times and not every letter sent followed him.
My dad was the one who got all the letters at first, so whenever he got one, he called me to read it.
My brother’s first huge challenge had us all holding our breaths.
He had to pass his first physical test after being there for just a couple of days.
He anticipated that he’d have a really hard time doing pullups and sure enough, suffered his first setback and wasn’t able to pass the test until he was able to do a certain number.
He was so upset and in turn, so were we. What made it even more upsetting for me, was that his address problem hadn’t been taken care of so all the letters of encouragement that I sent were lost.
I cried and cursed the mail system on the base.
One of the challenges we had back at the home base, was (and still is) that shortly before my brother left for basic, my dad learned he has a very rare from of cancer, with few options for treatment.
So, for the sake of Tyler getting through his training, my dad opted not to tell him.
As my dad read one of the first letters Tyler wrote, he got upset because in it, Tyler wrote, ‘I hope this letter finds you well.’ We both just cried on the phone. Well, dad wasn’t well, so the whole time Tyler is training to be “the few, the proud,” my family has been working on treatment options.
We knew he was in good hands, but the hardest part on both sides was not having that instant communication either by cell phone or email.
We all learned very quickly, just how much everyone relies on that type of communication now and when you don’t have that, it’s very hard waiting for the regular mail to find its way.
Once I began to receive letters on a regular basis (one every other week I think), I relaxed a little, after I immediately sat down and wrote him another, that is.
My letters averaged about two to three pages, while his were about a page to a page and a half, but I was so glad to get anything from him, I didn’t care.
I threw in a few care packages every few weeks too.
He was able to share a little about his training, but not nearly as much as I wanted to know.
Along with learning a little about his classroom instruction, rifle and target training, marches, (so many marches) among other things, I learned that in the civilian world, we have pens.
In the military world, these become ink sticks. Beds, in the civilian world, are just that. In the world of a Marine, this becomes a rack.
I mention these things, because after the first letter, I had a crash course in military speak — interesting.
So, pretty much right after we knew he’s arrived on base, the planning for this trip began.
This helped my heart not miss him so much because it kept me pro-active. Hotel room, check. Mapped out directions, check, money for tolls, check, snacks for crazy-long drive, check, bringing my car in for a checkup, check.
I’ve spoken to my dad just about every day for the past few months and he has, in fact, told Tyler what the deal is with his cancer and I, being the big sis, as both my brother and my dad call me, kept him in check.
This is a first for all of us and Tyler will never again, graduate so with the travel plan set, we’re all just waitng for time to pass.
Given what Tyler has accomplished and where dad is with everything, and we don’t know what the future holds, I’m ready for what I consider to be the most important trip I will ever take.
ksardinha@tauntongazette.com
Ellie
By Kendra Sardinha, Staff Writer
GateHouse News Service
Posted Apr 14, 2008 @ 09:49 PM
TAUNTON —
It was back in the middle of January when my 18-year-old brother Tyler left for Marines boot camp on Parris Island.
It’s been about 13 or 14 weeks and, in less than three days — yes, we are absolutely counting down the hours — my family will make the 13-hour trip to South Carolina to watch him get his globe and anchor pin on Friday morning during the graduation ceremony.
It’s been a very long 14 weeks with plenty going on, both with him and training as well as here at home. Letters were slow to get to us at first, given he was moved around a couple times and not every letter sent followed him.
My dad was the one who got all the letters at first, so whenever he got one, he called me to read it.
My brother’s first huge challenge had us all holding our breaths.
He had to pass his first physical test after being there for just a couple of days.
He anticipated that he’d have a really hard time doing pullups and sure enough, suffered his first setback and wasn’t able to pass the test until he was able to do a certain number.
He was so upset and in turn, so were we. What made it even more upsetting for me, was that his address problem hadn’t been taken care of so all the letters of encouragement that I sent were lost.
I cried and cursed the mail system on the base.
One of the challenges we had back at the home base, was (and still is) that shortly before my brother left for basic, my dad learned he has a very rare from of cancer, with few options for treatment.
So, for the sake of Tyler getting through his training, my dad opted not to tell him.
As my dad read one of the first letters Tyler wrote, he got upset because in it, Tyler wrote, ‘I hope this letter finds you well.’ We both just cried on the phone. Well, dad wasn’t well, so the whole time Tyler is training to be “the few, the proud,” my family has been working on treatment options.
We knew he was in good hands, but the hardest part on both sides was not having that instant communication either by cell phone or email.
We all learned very quickly, just how much everyone relies on that type of communication now and when you don’t have that, it’s very hard waiting for the regular mail to find its way.
Once I began to receive letters on a regular basis (one every other week I think), I relaxed a little, after I immediately sat down and wrote him another, that is.
My letters averaged about two to three pages, while his were about a page to a page and a half, but I was so glad to get anything from him, I didn’t care.
I threw in a few care packages every few weeks too.
He was able to share a little about his training, but not nearly as much as I wanted to know.
Along with learning a little about his classroom instruction, rifle and target training, marches, (so many marches) among other things, I learned that in the civilian world, we have pens.
In the military world, these become ink sticks. Beds, in the civilian world, are just that. In the world of a Marine, this becomes a rack.
I mention these things, because after the first letter, I had a crash course in military speak — interesting.
So, pretty much right after we knew he’s arrived on base, the planning for this trip began.
This helped my heart not miss him so much because it kept me pro-active. Hotel room, check. Mapped out directions, check, money for tolls, check, snacks for crazy-long drive, check, bringing my car in for a checkup, check.
I’ve spoken to my dad just about every day for the past few months and he has, in fact, told Tyler what the deal is with his cancer and I, being the big sis, as both my brother and my dad call me, kept him in check.
This is a first for all of us and Tyler will never again, graduate so with the travel plan set, we’re all just waitng for time to pass.
Given what Tyler has accomplished and where dad is with everything, and we don’t know what the future holds, I’m ready for what I consider to be the most important trip I will ever take.
ksardinha@tauntongazette.com
Ellie