Return to Sender

When I put this letter together Cassi had a few issues with her P.O. box. I received three of my letters back marked return to sender. It was a minor pain in a world of it, but it was there.

11^th July 2011

Dear Cassi,

Our late issues with the mail hit a note with me when I opened the last of the three returned envelopes. It was clear at some point in its two week amblings that the paper was exposed to heat. I could see the ghost image of many of the lines made so by the reactivation of the toner from its printing.

The tortured paper was a clear image of the events surrounding it. That simple piece of paper took a long march to return only to who sent it to have been replaced. It came to life to die as we all do.

The day is a circle of light to dark, but in most parts of the world the day starts in darkness as it ends in darkness. As the earth turns so do lives, and we all return to the darkness from which we came.

That’s what life has felt like for me for these past few years, just an endless circle, a repetition. Hope is the coming of the dawn and the promise of a new day, but is there any worth in that day?

Everywhere I turn in the modern day I find people looking to waste my time. I sent out three job applications to get three new emails about jobs that aren’t real.

The bad economy has given rise to a new breed of scavenger. The internet worms scuttle about leaving a trail of email slime and feeding of the dead flesh that is the job seeker.

I wonder if we can ever wash away the refuse that is making our world sick. Never entirely, but things will improve some day.

Stay safe,

Richard Leland Neal

Letters to a Soldier: the Second Letter to His Family

This isn’t the first letter I sent to the family of a soldier stationed in Iraq, but it is slightly more composed than the last.

11^th June 2011

Dear Everyone,

(The Soldier) called last night around twelve-thirty. It was the first time we actually got to talk since he got shipped out. The last time he called he got my voice mail. We had so much to say to each other and so little time to talk. I think it was the end of his shift again, but we didn’t talk about that much.

He said that he brought fifty books to Iraq with him, so he has no shortage of reading material. He asked me to send him gloves for the punching bag, and I already have some I can send off today. Mail takes about five days to get to him from us and about three weeks to get to us from him. He said that’s why he didn’t write, but I told him he should anyway if he has the time.

Here is the part none of you are going to like: wile we were on the phone he could see an explosion from his position. It was far enough off so that I could not hear it but close enough to surprise (the Soldier). Frankly, if it were a mile away it would probably feel like it was right by your shoulder. He didn’t seem to worry about it, and it did no damage to anything that he could see, just a puff in the sand, nothing more. It reminded me of the cold reality of this situation and our need to be honest with each other and set aside our differences. The trials of our daily lives are but ghosts and foolery to what (the Soldier) is going through.

There are so many times I wish I could have back. So many moments in the fifteen years that I have known (the Soldier) that are lost to me now as time does its inevitable ticking away.  I tend to be the man to see him off every time he comes around and every time I do so I feel as if we are letting him down in some way. I always think we should do something like sing “He’s a Jolly Good Fellow” or some other acknowledgment. I don’t know some expression of our love and support.

Yours truly,

Richard Leland Neal