LETTER (& APOLOGY) TO MY MOM

You’ve been gone for almost 18 years now and I still miss you very much. I doubt that will ever go away. Although you did not give birth to me, I think of you as my mom and I’ll always love you. There was a brief period during fourth grade that I was not happy you were my mom and you almost died and I told my teacher that it didn’t matter because my dad would just remarry. I apologize for being insensitive but I know you never held that against me. You always loved me like I was biologically yours.

There is one thing that has bothered me for almost 20 years and I want to ask your forgiveness for something that happened a couple years before you died. I said something to you without knowing what I was talking about and wish I could go back in time and take it back. I wish I could have been more supportive of you but I didn’t know. I know ignorance is not a good excuse but I was insensitive and I didn’t realize it at the time. I see things much more clearly in hindsight and if you were here, I’d apologize in person. 

I don’t remember all the details but something happened between you and dad while I was visiting and I came up to you and said, “You just have to understand where dad’s coming from” or something similar about needing to understand her husband. I thought I understood my dad because I thought I was a lot like him and that you just didn’t understand. Looking back I realize that I was the one who didn’t understand and you understood all too well and that’s why you stood there and cried in the kitchen. I wish I had supported you and not questioned your wisdom and understanding.

Please forgive me for not realizing the pain that dad put you through for most of your marriage to him. I know you kept it to yourself and endured quietly in pain. I know I couldn’t have done much about it except pray. I believe God answered my prayer when God took you home but I’ll tell you that story some other time.

I’ve cried because I’ve missed you and can’t talk to you any more but I’ve always been happy for you that you’re now “home,” happy, and content, something you didn’t have much of while here on earth.

The only reason I’d wish you back here is to meet my family. I wish I could introduce you to my wife and your three grandchildren. It’s just been the past few months that we’ve had to start explaining why you’re not here. They know you died but don’t know the details. As they get older we’ll explain more but for now we’ll share as they ask questions.

I know you’ll be glad that the Key’s have become Grandma and Grandpa in your place. They do a great job and have really shown love and support to our family and we really appreciate them. I know you’re not surprised by this.

I can’t wait to see you some day. Can you say “hi” to my mother for me? I’d like to think that you two are worshiping our Creator together. I’m looking forward to the time when I can do that with both of you. 

You’re always in my thoughts. I love you!

Your son,

Tim

Lessons my Dad Taught Me (part 2)

CONFLICTING STANDARDS  Most of our learning about character, Bible, morality, music, and most other “essentials” of Christian living were taught at church and school and reinforced at home. Although my mom had her faults, like everyone, she modeled what she believed with upstanding Christian character and I thought my dad did also but when all the dust cleared, my dad was all facade and no substance. 

I started to notice this in high school. I’m sure there were other signs but as a kid I didn’t see things or realize what was going on. Plus, my dad was an excellent manipulator and I don’t think anyone knew the extent of what he was into and my mom was not one to question my dad, especially not in front of the kids or her friends, and I doubt she did it in private.

I remember the first time I realized the “disconnect” between what I was taught and what I observed. At the house we rented, I didn’t live in the main part of the house but in the storage/laundry room. I’d have to go out my door, on to the covered back patio, and through the sliding glass door to come inside the house to be with the rest of the family. At night, I’d come into the house to use the bathroom and my dad would quickly change the station. A few times I’d try to see through the curtain what he was watching and there was just enough of a hole to tell that it was not appropriate or at least not up to the standards that I was being taught. 

What occurred to me was, “You teach your kids the highest standard but when you get older, you get to choose where you set that standard.” I’m not sure I thought of it as hypocritical but an adult thing.

I grew up being told that country music was not good for various reasons. I asked my dad what he thought about country music and he said, “Well, a lot of their songs talk about God.” Basically, he was telling me that he didn’t have a problem with country music. Good to know.

HYPOCRISY  About a year after I came home from boot camp and MOS school and was now living on my own, I stopped by my parents’ house and my dad found something in my car that indicated that I was not doing the right thing. He made an off-hand remark but never confronted me or told me I was sinning.

A few years later, I accidentally found out my dad frequented seedy places. I finally understood that my dad couldn’t say anything about my sin because he was doing much, much worse and he’d just be condemning his own sin. Knowing a little about what he was doing did two things. It validated my own sin and I thought, “My dad’s not such a ‘stick in the mud’.” And not that I wanted one at the time, but I lost a spiritual authority figure, someone I could go to for spiritual advice when I became open to that again.

My Misperceptions About MC Boot Camp

From February, when I joined the Marine Corps, until end of June, when I went to boot camp at Camp Pendleton, CA, I had some misperceptions or misunderstandings about boot camp, among other things. After I joined the MC, I would show up at the recruiting station once a week, where I and other recruits would get ready for boot camp. We’d run a couple miles, do some exercises, get yelled at, & basically try to prepare us for boot camp. There's nothing that can prepare you. You can only understand if you've experienced it.

We were told that during boot camp the drill instructors would build us up to running three miles. It turns out the building up from one mile to three miles happened during the first week and we never ran less than three miles during boot camp and sometimes it was interspersed with obstacles. I thought that once I could run three miles that I could always run three miles and I had this idea that I would become a runner. I was extremely wrong about this. 

I went into boot camp about 20 lbs overweight. I knew that I would lose my fat but I thought that I would gain it back in muscle. Well, I did lose about 30 lbs in boot camp and become stronger but what I didn’t understand was that the MC goal is physical fitness and endurance, not muscle. We had recruits come to boot camp who were body builders but gained weight and lost muscle mass because the focus was on cardio and not weight training.

My dad thought I’d come out saying “sir” to him. Drill sergeants really drill it in to you to say “sir” but I wasn’t going to start calling my dad that. I had never called him that while I was growing up and I was not going to start at 20 years of age.

I came out with a new confidence but I don’t think my personality changed too much. I’ve seen men and women come out of boot camp all “gung ho” and high strung but I tried to avoid this. I tried to stay somewhat normal but military boot camp will have an affect on people who go through it. For me, it was a good thing.

Lessons My Dad Taught Me (part 1)

For better or for worse, I learned things from my dad, things that he taught me on purpose and those I learned that he didn’t mean to teach me. In some areas, I’m a lot like my dad. I look like him a lot and when people said I looked just like my dad and that made me proud. I wanted to be like my dad. I don’t want to be like him any more and use his example now of what not to be but I wish that didn’t have to be the case and I pray that I’m a good example to my kids, not a poor one.

HARD WORK  When I was really young, my dad used to bring home medical kits that all of us would put them together. When I got older, around 12-14, my dad used to take me to work with him. There were two or three summers that I helped him vacuum off rocks of flat roofs to prep them for tar or foam. We drove a huge vacuum truck with lots of 4-5 inch plastic bendable plastic tubes that we’d connect with duct tape and we’d suck the rocks off the roofs and then empty the truck in an empty lot or where someone wanted gravel. It was extremely dirty, hot work. We’d be up around 4am to beat the summer heat and be off the roof by 1pm, if possible. I did not get paid for my labor. It was an expectation that I’d help. When I was in high school, he delivered food for Circle K stores. I went a couple times on his route around town to help. When I was 17, he had a route that took him up to Vegas and back through Bullhead City. He let me go one time with him. That was extremely exciting for me. We drove down the strip (there was only one at the time) at night. We went into Circus Circus but not on the “floor” because I was not legally old enough to be around the gambling machines and tables but the animals were cool.

OBEDIENCE  My dad expected obedience. When my dad asked me to do something, it was not a request but an order. Although my dad stopped spanking me fairly young, I always feared that belt. When my dad said I couldn’t do something, I didn’t do it even if he’d never know. It took me almost ten years after I moved out to be able to say “no” to my dad, even if it was in my best interest. It was so ingrained in me to do what he asked. I didn’t want him to be disappointed in me.

RESPECT  I grew up with a step-mother but I thought of her as my mom. My dad made sure we understood that if we ever did anything negative, like hitting, toward her, he said he’d make sure we paid for it. If we disobeyed her, we were disobeying him and that came with consequences.

MARINE CORPS - The Beginning

 

At the end of June 1987, I headed off to San Diego, CA for Marine Corps boot camp, otherwise known as MCRD. Later on I was to learn that we were considered “Hollywood Marines” because we didn’t do our boot camp at Parris Island, SC with the sand fleas and alligators. Instead we had to deal with being right next to the San Diego airport with airplanes taking off every 30 seconds. That’s not too bad except that for three months every time I saw one take off I wished I was on it and I didn’t care where it was going.

I got picked up at the airport, put on a bus, and then the yelling began. Remember the scene from Forest Gump? A lot like that. Anyway, we got off the bus and were told to find some footprints painted on the sidewalk and line up. It was night and they ushered us into barracks where we went to sleep. A couple hours later they came banging things to wake us up. They shaved our heads and divided us into platoons and took us to our new home.

My first weekend there was July 4^th and I saw one firework from my bunk that night. It was early to bed and early to rise every single day. Our days consisted of running, exercise, marching, , training, and a multitude of other events. We had three meals a day but not leasurely. I heard a lot of yelling, obscenities, chants, orders, and other verbal ques. I almost forgot about talking because that was not allowed unless spoken to or at specific times of the day, usually at night during our short free time.

I lost 25-30 pounds during boot camp. I went from at 36” to a 30” waist. I became an expert rifleman during weapons training. In our final physical fitness test, I ran three miles in 20min & 50 seconds. That was the first and last time I ever did it that fast. I’ve never been in better shape in my life and I looked pretty good in uniform.

After graduation in September, I was on “leave” (military term for vacation) for about ten days and then I headed to Camp Lejeune in NC. This is where I did my MOS (military occupational specialty) training for combat engineer. I was there for about seven weeks learning about bridges and explosives. It was quite cool. 

When I was done, I headed back to Arizona, with a stop in IL for a couple days to see my grandparents. I reported to duty at my Marine Corps Reserve Unit in Phoenix. For the next five years, except during Desert Storm,  I would show up at my unit once a month and two weeks out of the year for training.