Filling the Mailbox

Women's Retreat thank yous, care packages, notes of encouragement and, of course, boot camp letters, have created quite a bit of traffic in my mailbox this past month. More than I've had in a very long time. While Jubal is at Parris Island, I have been writing to him each day and have realized how very little "pen and paper" correspondence I participate in anymore. It has been difficult keeping my envelopes plain, so as not to attract the attention of Jubal's Drill Instructor. That strains against my artistic nature. This let to the pattern overload when I sent out a baby gift package to the Nkamwesigas in Uganda. Jim saw the package on the table and asked if they were the power bars that I was sending to Jubal. "Take a good look at that package, Jim. Do you really think that I would be sending it to boot camp?" I would NOT be a good mother.





I think back to my childhood and teenage years and all the letters I received from friends and family members. Many I still have, tucked away in a couple small boxes: An Easter postcard from my great grandparents in Nebraska, an old childhood Valentine poem, Birthday cards filled with sweet sentiments from my Grandparents, friend letters infused with camp and CYIA memories, pages of hilarious notes from my H.S. best friend, and of course, some bundled love letters. The emotions created by these items, varies. Some make me laugh, some make me wistful, some all warm and fuzzy. Some create the sadness of missing a loved one, others create the thankfulness of knowing a great friendship. All of them capture a little slice of my life that might otherwise have been forgotten years ago .
It's not always easy to get something out to Jubal everyday but I know he appreciates hearing his name at evening mail call and being temporarily transported back home through the written word. If he is anything like me, in 30 years, his appreciation for the bundles of memories will only have grown.

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