A letter to my husband.

I have been archiving photos of my family, mostly from the 50s and up , and while doing so I’ve come across a few interesting things.  One of the things I found kind of made a few other things fall in place and help me understand a few things.  The topic that this letter (really I should say email) is dealing with, is my obsession to make sure that the single sailors of my husband’s boat feel welcome in our home.  Seriously I’m big about these guys knowing that if they have no where else to go, they are welcome to come to our house for the holidays, for dinner, for anything.  And while I say single sailors, truly I mean anyone in my husband’s command but usually the guys who are single are the ones that need the offer the most. 

I’ve got my reasons for it.  My mom was in the Marines for 18 years, and we were always baking cookies for the holidays for the guys, she’d stand duty and go out of her way to make sure these guys (and gals)  had families they could spend the holidays with  (homes away from home).  She was big on making sure her marines knew they weren’t alone.  But not only that, my dad served 22 years in the marines and him and my stepmom were just the same, we were constantly doing things that included the single marines, we were always there for the other families; I can’t remember a weekend that we didn’t have people over.  So really it’s engrained into me, as a military family, my family isn’t only those I’m related to by blood but also those our military members serve with (and their families too).   But today, I found out one more reason why I’m the way I am;

Hello my love,
 
I want to tell you a story!
 
Today while archiving photos I ran across this little address book of my grandfather’s, I was scanning the pages with names and address’ written on it.
 
Now before I continue, I want to say that this could be the very reason why I push so hard to make sure the single guys (well anyone you serve with actually) know they are welcome to come over and eat dinner here and welcome on the holidays to call our house ‘home’ even if it’s just temporary; You already know how my mom was while she was in the marines and how my step-mom and dad were while my dad was serving, but I don’t ever think I told you about this…
 
Written on one of the pages in that tiny little address book was just a name and a place. Mr. & Mrs. Wilbur Garner, Swansboro, NC. Now if you remember from when we first met I told you that we/I once lived (well I lived there a few times) in a little town next to where your brother was last stationed in the states (Camp Lejune), the town I lived in was Swansboro.
 
Also over the years you’ve heard of my many stories while growing up and living with my dad, many times we lived in a little RV or pop-up. Well one of those years, while I was in elementary school we lived in a pop up that was parked in the yard of a man named Wilbur. It was my dad, Teri Anne and I. I remember getting off the bus and walking down the dirt road to Wilbur’s. I used to spend hours in their house talking to them and their children (my dad’s age) took me in too, I’d go horseback riding for hours with Wilbur’s daughter. I always wondered how we knew Wilbur and his family at the end of that dirt road, and why they took us in and let us live on their property.
 
Well today while going through that address book, it dawned on me how we knew Wilbur. I remember at one point overhearing a conversation that contained the words “Call Twyla (my grandma), she has Wilbur’s contact info…”, that was before we moved onto his property for that short time. And whenever Grandma would come to visit before that time (and during) she’d disappear every now and then to visit the Garners, I never paid much attention to it then… but now, now it’s like finding a treasure!
 
Well when my Grandpa was stationed at Camp Lejune in the 50′s, before or after his time in Korea I’m not sure, but while there he was taken in by Wilbur and his wife. Sort of adopted and it was like a second home, a family away from home. Over the years (it was 40 years later that we lived on his property) they kept in touch. I’m not sure of the details, but what I am sure of is that the simple act of Wilbur offering my grandfather a hot meal and a home away from home effected not only my Grandfathers life, and his children’s life, but it affected my life too (3 generations)!! Because while we lived there I felt like they were an adopted set of Grandparents (and even after when I’d heard of their health issues and eventual ending it still affected me). But the point is, is not only did Wilbur extend a hand to my grandpa but he also extended a hand to my dad, no questions asked he was just there to help when needed. It’s that that I strive to be. I want to be there for those who need it, when ever that is, be it tomorrow or 40 years from now. That is the ultimate gift of friendship, to be there for years to come. Because, while he was in sorts, it wasn’t like my dad was actually my Grandpa’s son. My dad was my Grandpa’s daughter’s ex-husband, and my grandpa had already passed away, but yet this man still helped us! What a freaking awesome person Wilbur was!!
 
So with that said, I think it’s dawned on me why I feel the need to have an open door to all those you serve with, because I’ve been the recipient of what happens when you leave that door open. So now we know! lol I may be crazy, but there’s always a reason behind it.
 
Anyways, I thought I’d share that story with you. It was like putting a puzzle together, I get it now, and I’ve got the whole picture!
 
Loving you and always thinking of you (I bet you can’t tell, by all the email.)
 
~ Megan

So there you have it, reason 954 of why I am the person I am.  The older I get the more in tune I am with the things that happen around me and my past, and the more things make sense.  It’s not that I want to take care of people, because trust me my hands are full, but I want those around us to know that if they are hungry and want that family atmosphere they can stop by and if they need a friendly place to sit and watch TV, our couch is open; And don’t even get me started on the holidays because my door is open and I practically expect those without family to be here! lol

I am proud to be a military spouse and I am proud to have generation after generation of family members that have served in the military, and it’s things like this that I think are the glue that holds our communities together!

Send article as PDF to