Dear Jon (February 14, 2011)

My son is winding down his Navy Boot Camp 'Experience'.  In less than two weeks we'll be attending his graduation at Great Lakes in Illinois.  We've been exchanging letters over the past six weeks, I'm posting a few outgoing letters from me to him because I want to remember the experience (the good, the bad, the 'weird').

I miss my boy.  From the letters we've received home, he seems to miss us too.  This, I did not expect from him.  He's the 'reserved' Kane, not prone to displays of emotion.  I've learned much in reading his letters over the past six weeks, and it appears that he's learned quite a bit about himself also.
 

Dear Jon,

I’m sorry that it’s taken a while to write again.  Mom told me that she sent you a Valentine’s Day card, and a letter last week, Ben said he sent you something too, so I spent my time, instead, shoveling snow in front of, and behind the house. 

I normally would write to you in the morning (it’s Tuesday Morning now) but for the past week or so it snows anywhere between two and five inches pretty much every night.  In the morning I wake up, make Timmy’s lunch, make sure he wakes up, pull jeans over my PJ’s, get my ‘warmsies’ on and go downstairs to shovel (or snow throw) the driveway and then come back in to shower, shave, and whatever.  By then it’s 7:49 and I’m almost already late to get to work at 8:30 because the roads are ‘interesting’ lately. 

We didn’t hear from you this weekend, so I’m thinking that this is a ‘good thing’.  When we spoke on the phone about ten days ago you said that if you had any problems that we’d know by this weekend.  So far, so good?  Your most recent letters sounded quite a bit more like yourself than the first couple did.  This also, is ‘good’ (I think). 

Don’t worry about the whole ‘Care Package’ thing from here, we had told anyone who knows you that if they send you anything it can ONLY be a letter, or card.  I went online at work yesterday and looked up the ‘8 Count Push-Up’ – yeah, I’m with you, doing 300 of those, that ain’t right. 

You’re not missing much here (we don’t HAVE a $40 Million-Universal-Studios simulator here – although, I think Mom is weakening...).  Maybe when we see you again I’ll have a sizeable down-payment so we can build one of our own in case you’re missing the Navy’s version of it ‘too much’.  But, since you’ll more than likely be spending some time ON a ship or two, who needs a Simulator when you have the real thing above, under, and around you?  Yeah, I’m thinking we’d better save our money in case we ever want to visit you in the future.  Plane tickets are not cheap, and I am NOT driving to Texas (all those scorpions crossing the road freak me out). 

Just so you know, I bought our train tickets for the trip up to your graduation on March 11^th.  We’ll arrive early on March 10^th (10:15am) after riding all night on the scary, shakey, and noisy train. 

Yup, we’ll be there, wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Everyone here is thinking of you and praying for you.  I sleep better now than I did a few weeks ago (mostly because I have that good little girl right there next to me) as it sounds like you’re on the ‘Up Side’ of the Boot Camp experience.  Like I said before, they need to break you down prior to building you up again.  They don’t want a bunch of stoop-shouldered recruits showing up for their graduation on the 11^th – they need proud Navy men and women with shiny white teeth, and from what I’ve seen in the past, very little hair. 

Oops, speaking of HAIR, I had your dog, Sandy, shaved last week.  It was either this or give her a bath.  When I gave her the option or either / or I clearly heard her bark ‘Hair’ in response.   She’s fine, but she looks a little different than she used to. 

I’m attaching a photo HERE just so you’re not surprised by her looks when you see her:

Oh, I don’t know, it could be an improvement, I guess?

More (actual) photos follow at the end of this.  Just so you know, we still miss you and think of you daily (and most days, just plain, ‘a lot’).  Do the best you can while at Great Lakes, you’re a good boy and you’ll be an excellent Sailor when you begin your Navy adventure in less than one month!

 

I miss you more than words can express Kidd-o.  Take care of yourself, take care of your ship mates, and I’ll take care of stuff around here.  I’ve got your back (wherever your back happens to be).

Love,

Dad

Yes, it’s been snowing lately, just like in Illinois (except, probably not as MUCH as you’ve had – and I’ve been using the Snow Thrower)

 

Here’s the ‘snowline’ on the edge of the driveway.  Snow overall is about 18” deep – it’s going to be 38 today so some of it should melt (hoping, anyway)

Oh, snow in the trees, how ‘pretty’!!!

I took this picture this weekend.  Here are the clown fish, the gobbie, and the blue ‘I don’t know what to call it’ fish.  All together in fishy’ happiness. 

It took HOURS to get a photo with all of them together.  The blue fish mostly ‘hides’…  He WAS delicious though...

Sandy LOVES the snow.  It makes ‘Treasure Hunting’ for food…  FUN!

Kelly’s tired of the snow, it’s making her face turn WHITE.  And she barks more now than she used to – I still blame Sandy for this. Your wicked little dog…  J

Here’s a view of the back yard, snow up to the top step of the shed.  We haven’t seen this for a while.

 

“Boy, come home boy, they’re mean to me all the time.  Yesterday they made me eat CAKE on Valentine’s Day.  I HATE cake – but I can’t wait till I pooh today, that makes it YUMMY!!!”


Even though I'm not physically with you, I think of you all the time.  Be well and we'll see you soon.  I'm really proud of you Jon.  More than you can ever know...

Dear Jon (January 28, 2011)

Dear Jon,

I received your first letter last night when I got home from work.  I was going to write you then but found that I was at a loss for words.  I can write a 1,200+ word blog for people I don’t know, but when it came to writing a letter back to my son in Boot Camp, I came up ‘Empty’.  I knew that I would be able to write to your this morning after calling in my secret weapon.  (No, it wasn’t ‘Magical’ Sandy, she did her best to keep me up all night moving around on the the bed.)

When I was a kid my Nana told me that if you wanted an answer to a pesky question, wanted to know which direction to go on some ‘hard’ question, or even to a task that you want to do (but don’t know how to get started) that you “Give it over to God”.  I didn’t know what she meant so I asked her. 

This is what she told me: “If you have a problem you can’t solve, or a thing that you need to figure out but can’t; let God help you.  When you’re going to bed say a prayer and ask God to show you the way.  As long as what you’re asking is ‘for the good’, he’ll provide you with the answer you’re looking for.  Every time.”  Nana wasn’t right about a few things while I knew her, but she nailed this one.

So before I went to sleep last night I asked for help in responding to your letter.  The following is what was in my head when I woke up this morning (once I let the dogs out, fed them, and started another load of laundry).

“Boot Camp is Boot Camp” you wrote.  Yes, it is.  It’s several hundred years of tradition for the US Navy rolled up into one uncomfortable seven-week stay at a ‘Nautical Motel Hell’.  But here’s the thing:  Tens of THOUSANDS of other sailors have gone through the magic you are currently living through and a HUGE majority of them come up ‘relatively’ un-scathed and happy to have done so (although I believe in the 1700’s that they WERE allowed to flog, keel-haul, and put you in ‘irons’ if you didn’t pay attention, or you sank an ‘actual’ ship (either by accident, or on purpose)). 

I’m not going to minimize the fact that ‘it’s hard’ now.  I didn’t do it myself, but I’ve spoken to other people who did and they tell me that it’s not ‘Sunshine and Lollipops’ (this was confirmed to me in your letter of last night).     

But here’s what I know for sure:  The United States Navy, the Instructors at the facility, and yes, even the President of the United States all WANT you to successfully complete the Boot Camp Training (No pressure, huh?). 

WHY?  Because, we NEED good people serving their country, manning the ships, and patrolling the seas around the World to keep our Nation safe.  What you’re doing is important.  It’s hard, but hard work is typically the work which matters most.  It’s why very few people choose to do it.  It’s what makes you, and your shipmates, the ‘Best of US’. 

Here’s something else you may have forgotten (but I think you knew before you left): 

The objective of Boot Camp is to tear you down and build you back up ‘Navy’ style.  I didn’t expect that you’d be getting many actual, or virtual ‘High Fives’ during the first four weeks of training.  At some point the tide will change and you’ll begin feeling like you’re actually in THE NAVY.  Right now the screws are being applied to see if you have what it takes to survive IN the Navy.  The US Navy is doing to you and your shipmates what I hate to do in the garden in the back yard – weeding.  They want to make sure that you are able to ‘Fit the mold of a successful sailor’.   

What the Navy doesn’t know (that I do) is that you’ve worked very hard to qualify to earn the right to get into Boot Camp.  If you don’t think that they believe that you, for the lack of a better phrase, “Have the right stuff”, please understand that you do.  I’ve seen it.  I know you.  You’ve worked, you’ve worked out, you’ve studied, and you’ve done all the things that they’ve asked you to do thus far.  You will make a fine sailor.  They most likely already know it, but they can’t tell you so… Yet.  They will tell you on March 11^th, 2011, but they can’t tell you yet.  It’s too soon.  The ‘molding’ is not completed.

I have faith in you Jon.  Keep faith in yourself.  If you need help doing this, refer back to the lesson my Grandmother taught me – ask God for help.  It’s worked every time I’ve tried it.  It will give you a clarity of thought into those things which otherwise might confuse and frustrate you.  Do what you can and let the ‘Big Guy’ help with the rest. 

While I’m not physically ‘there’, as I type this, I’m with you in spirit.  I wake up about three times a night and every time I do I say a prayer for you.  I pray a lot lately.  Maybe I’m making up for missed opportunities for prayers earlier in life?  Could be, I guess, but maybe it’s just that I have more to pray about these days than I used to.  I probably get it from your Nana – she prays all the time.  And if she’s NOT praying, she’s sending money off to some mission to…  You guessed it, say prayers for her family (which, by extension, includes YOU).  You’ve got a lot of folks pulling for you Kidd-O, more than you can imagine. 

When you were a kid I used to give you a hug and a kiss every night before you went to bed.  When you were little I asked you once “Will I always be able to give you a hug and a kiss before you go to bed?” 

You looked up at me and said, “Sure Dad.  Always.”

It’s been a while since you got a hug and kiss from me before you went to sleep.  Not because I didn’t WANT to, but because when you grow up, things change.  Everyone wants to grow up in a hurry.  I did then, you, now. 

Even though I’m not there physically to give you a hug, please know that these letters are my ‘virtual hug’ to you.  They may not be nightly, but they carry a bit of me to you hoping that they re-affirm the fact that you are not now, nor will you ever be, alone while someone loves and cares about you. 

You are not alone.  You are very much loved.  You are my son.  You will make a fine sailor and an excellent man.  I respect the heck out of you Jon.  It’s not easy, but it’s worth it. 

Here’s the news from home:

a.      I’m working on the logistics to getting us from HERE to THERE for your graduation.  I’m thinking that we’ll take a Train (courtesy of Thomas the Tank Engine and the Island of Sodor Railway Company (a.k.a.:  Amtrak) between Buffalo and Chicago.  It’s an over-night excursion through several states (which, of course, we’ll never SEE since the train leaves Buffalo at MIDNIGHT and we arrive in Chicago at 10:30 (Chicago time) the following morning.)  We plan on staying through Sunday.  Let us know when you re-deploy to San Antonio and we’ll take it from there.  Things are evolving regarding planning, but for sure, we’ll be there.  I wouldn’t miss it for the world.  

b.     New York City got 19 Inches of snow yesterday.  We didn’t even get enough to ‘sweep’ off the driveway.

c.      Sandy keeps looking for you.  I pulled your blanket off your bed and put it on Mom’s side while she’s in Syracuse.  (Not sure where Mom will sleep this weekend (starting tonight) as Sandy is VERY happy with this arrangement.)

d.     You still have two fish.  Tim still has his / yours, whatever.  All fish alive and reported for…  Sir.

e.      The ugly purple car runs and drives fine.  I’m assuming the Mazda does to, but since I don’t get to drive it EVER, I can only imagine that it’s okay.

I have faith in you.  Keep faith in yourself, your family, and the guys you’re in Boot Camp with.  They’re part of your extended family now. 

I miss you more than words can express Kidd-o.  Take care of yourself, take care of your ship mates, and I’ll take care of stuff around here.  I’ve got your back (wherever your back happens to be).

Love,

Dear Jon (January 25, 2011)

My middle son is at Boot Camp for the US Navy.  I'll be posting some notes sent by me to him here on the site over the next few weeks.  Just notes from a Dad to one of his boys who decided that the Navy needed HIM.

Why?  Because I'm thinking that these will remain in cyberspace long after I'm gone - and maybe they'll help another Dad get through the days following the departure of his Son or Daughter to Great Lakes, IL.  The experience has been 'different', but manageable.  I'll not post my son's letters home since they are HIS to share if he wants to in the future.  I'm done making decisions for my boy as my boy is racing head-long to becoming a man.  

I hope the series of 'Dear Jon' letters will provide you with some support, from someone who is living the magic first-hand.  Trust in you children - they'll more often than not surprise you (typically, in a 'good' way). 


Regards,

Mike (a.k.a.:  Dad, or in some places, 'Moos')



January 25, 2011

Dear Jon,

Mom told me that she’s already sent you some letters over the past week or so.  I’ve been holding off writing because, like you in your ‘Form Letter’, I didn’t know exactly what to say.

Well, here’s the news from home:

a.    It’s cold.  It’s really cold.  Yesterday morning on the way to work the guy on the radio said it was -10 degrees with a wind chill of -20.  Sandy and Kelly (you know, 'the dogs') have figured out that when it’s THIS cold that you don’t run outside and bark in all directions at once hoping to find something to bark AT.  Door slides open, they run out, sit down (well, you know) and come back without me having to yell ‘Cheese Cake’ at them.  They are smarter than I have given them credit for being all these years.

b.    Sandy keeps looking for you.  I put the jeans you wore to Great Lakes onto your bed next to hers and I find her lying by them from time to time.  For the first week after you left she slept in the living room on the love seat.  I think she was waiting for you to come home at night.  She sleeps in my room during the week when Mom’s in Syracuse now, though.  She’s a good dog, but she’s a bit ‘lost’ right now.  When Tim and I were on the Boy Scout camp-out last weekend Mom said she walked around the house whining all night.  Your leaving was bad, but Tim and I being gone too almost gave the Woobie Dog a stroke.  She’s fine now, we were only gone for an over-night trip (it was 2 degrees when the sun went down).

c.    You still have two fish.  One fish, two fish, clown fish, goo-bbie fish are doing well.  The ultra-violet filter thinga-ma-whats had a hose come apart when Ben was still home for the Christmas break and he put it back together again.  We heard noise, we saw bubbles, he fixed something (you’d better hope he comes home from college before it happens again, cause I’m not sure what he did.)  The bottom line is that they’re doing well (although that green slimy-wavy looking stuff is coming back again on the top rock).  When it’s above 10 degrees again I’ll take the rocks outside and hit ‘em with a garden hose (that’s how Dad’s fix stuff).

d.    The washing machine ‘agitator’ broke down two weeks ago.  I was going to call Sears to request that a guy with a gray official-looking Sears Repair Man suit on show up to fix it ($129 PLUS parts), but I went online instead.  I found out that the repair is ‘common’ and got the part numbers from the site I tripped across.  I bought the parts, came home in my suit at lunch-time and fixed it myself (it took about 30 minutes since I didn’t actually know what I was doing).                     Total cost:  $ 5.28. 

e.    I’m sure glad that Al Gore created that Internet thing…

f.     I finally stripped your bed and washed your sheets on Sunday.  I guess I realized that you won’t be coming home any time soon.  I’ll tackle the clothes you left all over the bed downstairs this weekend (WHY did you do this?) when I’m NOT camping, traveling, chasing after dogs or buying groceries. 

g.    Since I wanted to have something visible to remember you by, I moved the big, honking, old, blurry, Sony TV downstairs, moved the entertainment center out, chunked it in and lifted it all back in place again.  YOUR HD, super-cool, fuel-injected TV is now in the entertainment center upstairs.  Someone told me once that TV’s MUST be used to extend their life (although I may have dreamed this).  I didn’t want to run the risk of having your TV go bad from lack of use downstairs in the dark, dank nether-regions of the house.  Your TV is fine, although I wish you bought a 32’ as there is still space to fill up in the entertainment center.  Next time, please buy a LARGER TV that I can steal to use while you’re away.  It’s really nice!  Thanks!

Bottom line is that you are missed every day you’re away.  For the first couple of weeks you’re gone I woke up a lot at night.  First I blamed it on the ‘little dog’ walking around the house, the heater going on, or the plow trucks running up and down the hill pushing snow off the road.  Then I realized that when I woke up I was thinking about you, boot camp, the Navy, etc..  I’d have a little chat with God and at some point I’d fall back to sleep again – for a while, at least. 

I’ve told you that I’m very proud of you – just so you know, I meant it then, I mean it now.  It takes guts to do what you’re doing.  I respect the heck out of you for the commitment you’ve made to yourself, your country, and to your ship mates up there at Great Lakes.  I imagine that some days will be better than others, but I know that you’ve worked hard to get where you are, you can see it through to graduation and beyond. 

I have faith in you.  Keep faith in yourself, your family, and the guys you’re in Boot Camp with.  They’re part of your extended family now. 

I miss you more than words can express Kidd-o.  Take care of yourself, take care of your ship mates, and I’ll take care of stuff around here.  I’ve got your back (wherever your back happens to be).

Love,

Dad