"Journey Home: A Marine Tale"

This is a story written by our newly minted 10 yr old (Big Sis) at school.  I haven't corrected her misspellings or grammar but I have highlighted a phrase she wrote.

I saw the ship that had taken me here, Iraq, 1 year ago.  It would now take me home.  To my family and home.  It had been a long year.  I was ready to go to my abode.

I stepped on the ship uncertain it would survive the trudge west.  But hopefull to return to my kin.  I was given a room key for my cabin, below deck.  My number was 303 .  The blue paint forming the numbers were nearly completly chipped off.  I instantly pictured the room dank and sad, with spiders and cobwebs.  I got half right.  It wasn't gloomy, but it was cobweb filled. 

For the first couple of days it was splendid, but then a storm hit.  I felt like I needed to abandon all hope, of seeing family and living.  The boat rocked uncontrollably.  Passengers were throwing up and screaming.  Two waves so high you'd think their water mountains, hurled them selves on deck.  One wave had caused a hole and the Captain was plunging lifeboats into the angry sea.  (which wasn't bright if ya ask me.)  I threw myself into the murdurous sea, trying to escape the yelling and the rocking of the boat.  That was a big mistake, 'cause I fell unconcious.

Next thing I know I'm bobbing along in a calm sea... above water.  I'm a top 3 planks of wood from a ship, perhaps the one I was on.  I look around  my compass is broken and I'm wandering in the ocean.  What could be worse?  Oh, great.  I see a fin, it's proboally a shark.  To my surprise it's a dolphin.  I take the rope around it's tail, and I glide after it.  Dolphins are popular in FL where I live.  There just might be hope, again.

Finally, I saw the shore.  My luck must have been with the dolphin, because this was the beach that was 2 mi. away, from my house.  Unfortanantly, it's a long walk, and would be tough without shoes.  My luck ran out.

The hot sand was burning my feet as I walked toward the wooden ramp.  I braced myself for the tiny, pointy, rocks in the parking lot.  The pain was standable, though it stung.  My feet were red, cut, and bleeding.  But, I continued walking.  When your a Marine, you learn to stand the pain and think about what's important.  In this case reaching home, I continued walking.

Yes, I see my house!  I wanted to run, but my feet were too sore.  I was laughing and celebrating.  As I knocked on the door and embraced my family.  For the first time in a year.


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Devil Pups rock!

First off, we live on an Army post.  In an apartment building made up of mostly Army folk. 

The other day, I brought our USMC flag in because of the wind and the fact that it looked like the bracket was about to come out of the wall.  This morning, Devil Pup decided to take it downstairs for a one-girl parade.  She later talked our neighbors' little girl to join her with their USMC flag (we are the only 2 Marine families in the building).  She tried to get our other neighbor's daughter to join her but was told, "I can't:  We're an Army family!"

So there she was (and she's back out there again as I type), marching around with a Marine flag that's bigger than her.  And probably freezing her little patootie off, too.

If a 6 year old has that much Marine Corps spirit, how can you refuse to donate to the Marine team in our efforts to support Valour IT?  Click on the button in the upper right part of the screen to donate and support our Wounded Warriors!

Nice to know we're still needed...

Last night, we found our 10 yr old sprawled out in our bed.  Usually, it is her younger sister who tries to invade us in the middle of the night.  We're lucky if Big Sis asks to cuddle at bedtime, so it was something of a surprise to find her in our room.  And it was clear that she intended to stay the night since she'd brought her alarm clock with her.

Big Sis used to regularly join me at night in 2003 (she was just 2 yrs old at the time), during Stretch's first war-time deployment.  But in recent years, she's been quite the independent type and she's never been a particularly touchy-feely child. 

Last night, I know she was feeling vulnerable for a few different reasons.  So when we found her in our bed, we left her there despite the crowded conditions (she's almost as tall as me now!).  It was nice to know that she still needed us.

And she'll always be my baby.