letters
Letters
16 letters to be exact, over the course of 10 weeks. These letters held such a strong connection between us, or at least in my heart & mind they did. The phone calls were great, but no one knew more than me just how therapeutic letter writing was going to be for Dylan. In addition to letters, Dylan journaled nearly every day of his time in boot camp. In the limited one hour of personal time at night before lights-out, it warms my heart to think that he laid in his ill-sized bunk, feverishly writing not only to us, but to other family members and friends, and more importantly, to himself. Also – what joy he must have felt when they had mail call and he received letters!
Of course, I too sent as many letters as possible in response, or even just because I was thinking of him, or had something simple that I wanted to share with him. Admittedly, I pseudo cheated, and used the Sandboxx app. The app allows you to write letters directly from your phone, but they’re still actually printed and mailed directly to your soldier on base – the best part about Sandboxx is a letter arrives in 3-5 days vs. snail mail, which can be every bit of 2 weeks (ugh!). I found my letters could have more spontaneity and meaningful content with the app at my fingertips. I admit - most times I wrote them from my car, in tears. You can even upload a photo, which would get printed on the letter. I sent him pics that I thought would help him feel warm connections to home - beautiful sunsets & sunrises, a view of the mountains from our backyard with the first dusting of snow, the day I put our Christmas tree up, or even just fun selfies in some of our favorite places we enjoyed together.
When deciding on a topic specifically about letters, I made the decision to go back and mindfully re-read those 16 letters. Funny thing is, they feel so different now than they did then. I now interpret most of them as Dylan’s direct stream of consciousness, spilled out onto paper – they truly represent the emotional ups and downs he was facing. I will attempt my best to summarize them, as I feel it authentically (hopefully) brings light to what he was experiencing.
I have also shared, word for word, the letter that was most difficult for this mama to read (with Dylan’s permission of course).
Every letter always greeted us “To The Best Parents”. I mean, could this kid be any more amazing?!?
Letter #1: Almost illegible – this is what happens when kids today only text/type and they don’t actually write – penmanship sorely suffers. This was the shortest letter of them all, and he misses and loves us fiercely. He had just gotten his uniform and felt so honored being able to wear it for the first time.
Letter #2: He was 5 days into basic training and this letter, no joke, feels like 2 of the longest run-on sentences I have ever read. I imagine his mind was feeling the same sense of confusion and uncertainty, and whether he knows it or not, it projected itself right onto this particular piece of paper. Training had more than begun; yelling, running, cursing, lots and lots of tears.
Letter #3: He still misses and loves us and is excited to come home for Christmas already. They’ve started obstacle & rope course training. Some kid did a no-no and sat at a meal table alone, which quickly lead to him having his tray slapped into his face by a drill sergeant. He’s definitely starting to feel the mental exhaustion, but says he is not giving up. The gas chamber is tomorrow, which he is a bit nervous about. He asks that everyone and anyone write him letters – it feels so good to get mail. For those of you who wrote him – THANK YOU! You helped him more than you know!
Letter #4: This was right after Thanksgiving, so they had a few days to rest. A few days prior he had to break up an intense fight in the building stairwell between four trainees – I am thankful that he chooses to intervene as a voice of reason in situations like this, versus letting his adrenaline get the best of him. We’re now hearing about that core group of friends, which are helping him push through. He has 23 days until he is home for HBL – new acronym alert! HBL = Holiday Block Leave. He says he can’t wait to eat at his favorite restaurants and that he doesn’t want anything for Christmas – he just wants to be with friends & family and, to quote: “Being here makes me so grateful for what I’ve got to have or do in my life. I’m very thankful”.
Letter #5: The weeks are now starting to fly by. I ponder this statement and admit it stings a bit – how long will it be before he truly grasps just how fleeting time in this life really is? And when he does, will he fiercely embrace the realization and live his life accordingly? It is also a stark personal reminder for myself. Handwriting has vastly improved! Their platoon has finally been assigned a name, The Punishers, and they’re marching more consistently in formations – which he absolutely loves! He’s starting to get in “the groove” and what keeps him going is making us proud and graduating.
Letter #6: He had taken his ACFT this week. ACFT = Army Combat Fitness Test, a series of physical fitness tests that you must pass in order to graduate. He says it felt good to push himself and thinking of us being there to watch him graduate, and us being proud, motivated him – and he passed! Also admitting that the workouts and running we had done together, well, those really helped too! Such a perfect example of how daily habits and preparedness, repeated consistently over the course of months, can produce big gains in achieving goals. He thanks us for motivating him, and that we’ve helped him more than we will ever know. Of course, there is always a mention of food, and breakfast is his new favorite meal – he’s now an oatmeal lover! I think this was my favorite letter!
Letter #7: They completed shooting qualifications, and as I expected, he aced this: 34 out of 40 on shooting in the first round, which qualifies you as a sharpshooter in the Army. HBL is soon approaching, and here come more food mentions – he wants hot chocolate, Christmas cookies, Goldfish, Nutella, any kind of chips, and sunflower seeds. Handwriting is still stellar!
Letter #8: We’re going backwards on the hand-writing – oy! He’s super nervous about one of the tests they have to take where you have to put your gas mask on in less than 9 seconds, which apparently, is practically impossible. He is really missing us and cried a lot the past several days – I love that he is brave enough to admit this. With this letter’s content decline and its illegibility, not to mention this being the 2nd shortest letter of them all, I know he must have be struggling when he wrote this one. Letters like this one in particular make me wish I could hug him.
Letter #9: 2 days until he leaves for HBL! He’s clearly excited to come home. He just finished The Anvil and his feet are recovering from the long ruck. He’s dang tired and wants to sleep a lot when he’s home.
Letter #10: Fast forward a few weeks, and he’s back from HBL. Being home for 2 weeks and then going back to finish his hardest 3 remaining weeks was rough – it felt like day 1 all over again. For all of us. He is leaving for The Forge tomorrow – the 3-day, 45 mile-ish ruck he will make over the course of 3 days, implementing all the skills he’s learned up to this point, to include real life combat scenarios utilizing live rounds of ammunition. He’s also starting to experience frustration with how the military can unfortunately operate sometimes. In this example, having to take a test on something he has yet to learn and essentially set up to fail. He’s struggling in this letter, frustrated, sad – I can tell. He’s starting to worry that he won’t complete all of the requirements to graduate, get “recycled” – basically, having to start training over.
Letter #11: He finished The Forge and survived – he said he’s never been more tired in his life. It was all worth it when he arrived back at base in the early morning hours and the platoon made their way to the main field to receive their official soldier patch and black beret. This made it all worth it! He got a few days to recover and heal his feet, and he’s so proud of himself for making it this far. He also made the D&C (drill & ceremony) squad for graduation. Apparently, he’s really good at marching! 9 days until we see him for family day & graduation!
Letter #12: Remember when I said that I was going to share the most difficult letter for me to read? This was it.
“Hey dudes. I’m writing this letter on 1/11 because I just failed grenades. The guy who explained it did a bad job and I got confused. I just got a safety violation, but you’re allowed 2, but I didn’t go and re-train and they didn’t have any grenades left so I couldn’t throw live, and I’m legit the only one who isn’t throwing. I’m not gonna lie, I was so depressed for this past hour – this is a graduation requirement, so I thought I was gonna get recycled, but the drill sergeant said he’s going to try to fit me in tomorrow. I don’t know what we’re doing but I don’t think it’s the live fire. Hopefully he can get me in because I just bawled my eyes out so so hard. I let you all down and I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry for letting you guys down. If I go back tomorrow, I will not do that again, I just have to wait for him to say throw and then throw it. I’m so sorry I let you guys down, I’m so sorry I let our name down, I really am. This shit is easy, I just screwed up, so hopefully I can go back tomorrow and get it done so I can stop worrying about it and be up to par with everyone else…..”
The next few paragraphs spin with anxiousness, scenario rationalizations, Dylan trying to franticly predict what could happen if he doesn’t accomplish this part of the training, fear of being recycled, etc. Multiple lines of repeating the same thing, trying so hard to reassure himself that everything he had done up to this point couldn’t just be for nothing. He closes the letter as follows…
“Again, I’m sorry for letting you guys down. You guys being so proud of me has always meant the world to me. I disappointed you guys and I’m so sorry again. I hope everything is going good at home. I promise I won’t fail again, I’ll pass this time. I know what to do, just relax and let him tell me to do. Anyways, that’s it from me and I miss and love you guys so much. I promise I won’t fail again, and I’ll make you guys proud.”
This was incredibly hard to read, and I still grapple with the concept of disappointment as it relates to Dylan. I discovered in my second digestion of these letters that Dylan’s letters have a generally consistent theme, which surprisingly revolve mostly around how WE might perceive Dylan in his training – our pride in his accomplishments, or worse, our possible disappointment in his non-accomplishments. I’m hopeful someday I can better articulate the subject of disappointment as it relates to Dylan, and my personal thoughts about it, I’m just not there yet. Dylan and I talked specifically about this letter, and we used it as an opportunity to talk about failure and how it’s such a crucial part of life and personal growth. No better learning opportunity, in my opinion; somewhat difficult to make an 18-year-old embrace this for himself – but he is learning.
Letter #13: Back to a really short and messy letter. He has just a few weeks left, doing some final testing, and the stress of everything he has been working towards is really chipping away at him. He’s ready to be done and he is still worrying that he’ll make a mistake and not graduate.
Letter #14: He has finally admitted that everything he has learned so far, every single skill and every mental struggle, brings real value to his life. A welcome breakthrough! I had asked Dylan in one of my recent letters to him if it would be okay if I share quotes and prayers, as well as questions I had for him about his life. He was welcoming of the idea, and in this letter he responded to one of my questions “what do you find truly meaningful in your life?” – he responded that he is finding meaning in the motivation he has in accomplishing his goals & aspirations. I can’t wait to see how this answer evolves as he moves forward in his life, as I know more than anyone that motivation isn’t always present. He says he is still praying; for himself, and for others.
Letter #15: Just a few days until family day & graduation. He has one final test to complete, and he is excited to see us and show us around the base.
Letter #16: They still haven’t taken that final test, but the drill sergeants have managed to provide a last- minute scare tactic: if they don’t pass it, they will have to retake on Family Day if they want to graduate. The one day they’ve been looking forward to since the day they arrived. He’s frustrated and done, but still pushing forward with his “don’t quit” attitude – he’s in the home stretch, and failure is not an option.
Reliving these letters, these simple, beautiful sheets of paper, I feel like I watched my baby grow right before my tear filled eyes. What a privilege I have been blessed with. At the same time, I am smacked hard in the face (again) with the reality of what a roller-coaster this is going to be for him, and for me. Will it always be this way? Maybe, maybe not. Nonetheless, I am eternally grateful he is bringing me along as a passenger on this crazy ride, not opting for the single-rider line instead.
Don’t worry, I won’t leave you hanging. Dylan DID graduate and we were able to enjoy Family Day with him! Probably the most pride I have ever felt in my entire life happened in those 2 days, at least until now.
I have a sneaky feeling pride is something Dylan is going to make me feel perpetually, and frequently, in many years to come.