Thursday, August 29, 2013


I love to write.  I know that when I write, I can express my emotions better than when I speak.  Let me re-phrase that.  I can say what I feel better on paper than with my words.  I have a huge tendency to say things to others that come across completely the wrong way.  I have a way of expressing myself differently than what my heart intends for others to hear.  So thank God for the ability to put my emotions down on paper.  I usually do much better this way.

That being said, I have the desire to journal, document, write, whatever the term may be, letters to Anthony while he's away on his journey.  I wanted him to feel the love from home while he's gone and what better way than to write him letters.  I have set my mind to writing a letter a day to him.  If you do the math, that will be over 234 or minus a few based on his length of stay.
234?  Yes, 234.  That's a lot of money in postage you might say.  Yeah, it is.  But there's no amount of money too great for Anthony in his situation.  
To receive a letter everyday from home, from Mom, that's the plan.

Well, what's in my letters to him?  The same words over and over, 234 times?  No, it's not like that.  In my letters, I showcase the families happenings.  I explain to him our days.  I let him into our dinner that night with the descriptive words that describe the meal; almost to the point where he's either drooling or throwing up.  In my letters I let him into what I do while his sisters and brother are at school.  I tell him when I've cleaned the toilet, scrubbed finger prints off the wall, and I even tell him my lack of motivation since he's been gone to work out.
I want these letters to serve not only a soothing place in his heart, but for mine as well.  I want Anthony to feel as if he's still apart of this family, even though he's so far away.  Because he is still apart of us.  Nothing has changed, except the distance. And I want to write these letters to feel the closeness to him while we're apart.  

As the sun is setting, my babies are just bathed, tucked into bed, and stories read, I head to the computer screen.  I settle in for a moment with just him.  And I type:
Dear Anthony...

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