Special Gift

Anyone that knows anything about Marine Corp basic training knows that it is the most difficult boot camp of all branches of the military.  I researched all aspects of the training, watched movies, read books and asked other parents all about the experience my would go through on Paris Island in the dead of summer.  

I wrote letters to him daily and as soon as I had an address (2 weeks in), I mailed them all.  To my dismay, the first 5 letters I wrote to him were returned. He was moved to a different unit and until I received the updated information, he did not receive anything I sent him. I resent every letter I sent to him and continued to write. I anxiously awaited a response.  It took over 3 weeks to receive a response.  Once I did, I was elated.  The response was only 4 sentences but, I was so relieved to know he was doing ok.  There was a 7-day lag time between me sending the letters and him receiving them. The communication was flowing but, he was struggling to get through his days with all the physical stress and lack of sleep his letters were very brief due to his exhaustion.  The communication began to flow regularly.  I received a list of acceptable items to ship to my son and began sending weekly care packages of stamps, photos, electrolytes and protein bars to keep him going.  He eventually won a 5-minute phone call for excelling in a task.  I was on the receiving end of the call.  It was on speakerphone and the drill sargent listened in but, it was so wonderful to hear his voice.  That in itself I consider a gift.   The weeks continued on photos of the training was posted on the parents page.  I looked at every photo for a glimpse of my son.  I felt like I was searching for Where's Waldo.  There were around 70 young men in his group.  There were about 8 groups there at the same time as him.  All had the same uniforms, posture, and sick pale look about them.  I spotted him in a few of the photos and followed his training schedule week by week to assist with locating him.  This also gave me the ability to support him as he was going through each part of his training.

Finally, the last piece of training that would make or break him approached.  They called this Crucible.  It was four nights with about 2 hours sleep each night.  The were miles of hiking, tests (physical and mental), hand-to-hand combat, and all around testing of everything they had done over the months since they had been there.  I arrived at the base a couple of days before graduation.  When I had first seen him run past me in the big group of guys that he had trained with, he had the biggest smile.  He did it.  There was a lot going on around the base besides the graduation.  We were actually concerned that they would evacuate the base before graduation due to an incoming hurricane.  We continued with the graduation weekend with our fingers crossed. We were able to meet with him for about an hour the day before graduation. My son told me that I had to go to the Fleurdelin clothes shop on the base the morning of his graduation, and there was something there in my name.  So, the next morning, as we were following the weather system and updates for the graduation events, I went to the clothes shop to find a special dress for me that showed I was the mother of a Marine. They decided to speed up the graduation process, but I was there for him as I hoped he knew in heart and in mind wearing my dress with pride as the graduation process began.  The ceremony was beautiful, we made it through an abbreviated graduation before the Island was evacuated.  Afterwards, he came over to me and thanked me with the biggest, strongest hug.  He was 40 pounds lighter but the strength of his grip was so much stronger.  He looked at me and thanked me for everything while he was there.  He said that my letters helped him get through his days.  Then he asked me if I liked my dress.  All I could do was cry tears of happiness and pride.