As I was settling into Germany and the Army things were getting better, or at least more bearable. No matter how much I liked Germany, the Army or how many friends I made, I was simply homesick most of the time --ALL of the time. Many nights I'd cry myself to sleep because my heart ached so much for the home front. I had pictures of my family posted all over my barracks walls and office. I thought of them constantly and missed them beyond measure.
Soon after I arrived at 1st AD I became known as the soldier that got the most mail. My sisters Val and Sam wrote me ALL of the time. They'd send me packages, pictures, cards and letters. My grandmother sent packages --mostly homemade goods. They weren't so good by the time they reached me, often stale or crumbled but regardless, I ate them with such delight. She would also write letters and send me pictures. My cousin Marsha and my Aunt sent packages too. My mother wrote me a lot of letters. She also sent me post cards quite often. They didn't say much but they didn't need to because the "Love, Mom" at the bottom was what meant the most to me. My Dad even sent letters every now and then but also he'd call me once a month. In fact, he was the only one that ever called me. We couldn't talk long because it was so crazy expensive to call overseas back then. What he probably never knew is throughout the entire conversation, I'd have tears just rolling down my face.
Just like the postcard, it wasn't what they sent but the fact that you knew you weren't forgotten. We didn't have cell phones, internet, email, IM --all I had was snail mail and back then, even just a letter could take 2 weeks to reach me. Sometimes at night I'd lay in bed and count the days it had been since I heard someones voice. I'd think, "Now the last time I talked to Mom was . . . . " then I'd try and figure out how many days it had been since I heard her voice. My sister Val was amazing --I'd write to her and tell her things I needed or couldn't get and within no time a package would arrive with exactly what I had asked for. My sister Sam just sent fun and whimsical things.
When I'd get really bad-off homesick I had a little trick. I'd go to a pay phone and put in what would be equivalent to an American quarter. I'd call a family member and as soon as they said "hello" the call would end. 25 cents bought you about 2 seconds of call-time. This was before caller-ID days too so they had no idea what the call was about - -no clue it was me. As I was placing the call I'd get excited because I had no idea who was going to answer the phone! As the phone was ringing I'd try to guess who it would be. After they picked up I'd try to rush in a "hello" back but the call most always ended before I could. I know, it sounds silly now but hearing someones voice always made me feel better. Even if for just a split second, I was connected to my home and family and for the 12 months I was overseas, this helped me through it all.
Mail Call was my favorite time of each day. I LOVED Mail Call! I'd take my mail back to my barracks or office (if it was during the duty day) and I'd rip open each letter or card and read it over and over and over again.
I still have a VHS video my Dad made for me while I was in Germany. It was right after my niece Lindsay was born and my family was at my cousin Marsha's house celebrating my Dad's birthday. Courtney and Morgan were running around in nothing but a diaper (it was a sticky hot July day). My sisters interviewed my family members as if they were on Oprah. At the end of the video my Dad recorded himself talking to me. To this day I can't get through it without balling --I'm crying now just writing about it.
I never missed any place or any people as much as I missed Chicago and my entire family. I LOVED telling people I was from Chicago and in fact, people in the barracks used to call me, "Chicago". Uh so --nick names are really popular with soldiers and often times a nick name is given based on where you are from or something you did --either incredibly good or incredibly stupid.
I'm still not sure why they didn't call me Buffer! I was so bad (as in good) on that machine.
Soon after I arrived at 1st AD I became known as the soldier that got the most mail. My sisters Val and Sam wrote me ALL of the time. They'd send me packages, pictures, cards and letters. My grandmother sent packages --mostly homemade goods. They weren't so good by the time they reached me, often stale or crumbled but regardless, I ate them with such delight. She would also write letters and send me pictures. My cousin Marsha and my Aunt sent packages too. My mother wrote me a lot of letters. She also sent me post cards quite often. They didn't say much but they didn't need to because the "Love, Mom" at the bottom was what meant the most to me. My Dad even sent letters every now and then but also he'd call me once a month. In fact, he was the only one that ever called me. We couldn't talk long because it was so crazy expensive to call overseas back then. What he probably never knew is throughout the entire conversation, I'd have tears just rolling down my face.
Just like the postcard, it wasn't what they sent but the fact that you knew you weren't forgotten. We didn't have cell phones, internet, email, IM --all I had was snail mail and back then, even just a letter could take 2 weeks to reach me. Sometimes at night I'd lay in bed and count the days it had been since I heard someones voice. I'd think, "Now the last time I talked to Mom was . . . . " then I'd try and figure out how many days it had been since I heard her voice. My sister Val was amazing --I'd write to her and tell her things I needed or couldn't get and within no time a package would arrive with exactly what I had asked for. My sister Sam just sent fun and whimsical things.
When I'd get really bad-off homesick I had a little trick. I'd go to a pay phone and put in what would be equivalent to an American quarter. I'd call a family member and as soon as they said "hello" the call would end. 25 cents bought you about 2 seconds of call-time. This was before caller-ID days too so they had no idea what the call was about - -no clue it was me. As I was placing the call I'd get excited because I had no idea who was going to answer the phone! As the phone was ringing I'd try to guess who it would be. After they picked up I'd try to rush in a "hello" back but the call most always ended before I could. I know, it sounds silly now but hearing someones voice always made me feel better. Even if for just a split second, I was connected to my home and family and for the 12 months I was overseas, this helped me through it all.
Mail Call was my favorite time of each day. I LOVED Mail Call! I'd take my mail back to my barracks or office (if it was during the duty day) and I'd rip open each letter or card and read it over and over and over again.
I still have a VHS video my Dad made for me while I was in Germany. It was right after my niece Lindsay was born and my family was at my cousin Marsha's house celebrating my Dad's birthday. Courtney and Morgan were running around in nothing but a diaper (it was a sticky hot July day). My sisters interviewed my family members as if they were on Oprah. At the end of the video my Dad recorded himself talking to me. To this day I can't get through it without balling --I'm crying now just writing about it.
I never missed any place or any people as much as I missed Chicago and my entire family. I LOVED telling people I was from Chicago and in fact, people in the barracks used to call me, "Chicago". Uh so --nick names are really popular with soldiers and often times a nick name is given based on where you are from or something you did --either incredibly good or incredibly stupid.
I'm still not sure why they didn't call me Buffer! I was so bad (as in good) on that machine.
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