Package to Post

April 2002

My son has been called up and recruited in the Army. My first born child.

This has brought with it an entirely new identity for me. There is no training manual for first time Soldier Moms. There isn’t even a definition for them. So many things I don’t know – that everyone else seems to.

I have now joined the ranks of the PSM’s – the Parcel Sending Moms.

My list in hand, I go to get his shopping done.

First stop the Army surplus store. He has lost his beret. I go in, and ask the assistant for a khaki beret. He nods in understanding. “Your son lost his?” he enquired knowingly. Surprised, I said yes. “Better send him safety pins as well, that way he can pin the beret to his lapel, and it won’t get lost again.” I laugh, in the knowledge that this is the beginning of a new era for me. “Put in safety pins,” I said, taking out my purse.

Next stop, the supermarket. Goodies to go into the parcel. I go to the checkout line, and feel obliged to explain to the checkout clerk why my purchases only include junk food, and nothing nutritional. “For my son, the soldier” I said.

“OOOhhh, “she says, critically eyeing my purchases. “But you didn’t get any nuts – you MUST send him nuts”. OK, off I go to the nuts. Everyone's an expert, and I am so green.

Then I am standing in line at the post office to get The Box. A long, long line of impatient, irritable people and one post official. She dutifully goes about taking payment for Social Security, stamps, etc. My turn arrives. The line behind me now snakes out of the door. I look at her.

“A box. For a soldier” I say to her. She perks up. Smiles, and looks approvingly at my shopping-laden hands.

“Which size do you want? “she asks, pointing to the Small, Medium & Large examples against the wall.

“Well I guess the small one,” I say.

WRONG answer.

Her eyebrows shoot up, and I hear the whisperings beginning in the line behind me.

“The SMALL one?” she shrills, her voice going up an octave.

“Uh, no, I mean the medium one” I stammer, quickly correcting myself before I got lynched by the mob.

She, the post office lady, relaxed visibly.

“You’re new to this, aren’t you?” she said, explaining to herself, and the line behind me, why I had made such an unforgivable error. I nodded. She brought out two of the medium boxes.

“You need two boxes”, she said, not thinking for a moment to ask my permission, “one to send now, and one to start packing for next week’s one. Then next week you get the next one, and so on.” I nodded quickly. She then proceeded to bring out the labels, which she painstakingly explained the correct way to fill them in.

“Now” she continued, all smiles, “let me help you pack the first box.”

I stared at her, horrified, sure that any minute the line behind me was going to start yelling, and pushing at this suggestion. Not a sound. Not even a shuffle. I was astounded, as I turned around and met with understanding nods and “go aheads”. We were all the same, parcel sending parents, sisters, brothers, grandparents, aunts & uncles.

I turned back to The Lady.

“Thank you, but I will pack it at home, and bring you the box,” I said to her with a smile. But that wasn’t good enough for Her Ladyship.

“Why??” she demanded to know – after all, it was her God given right to know!

I leaned forward in a confidential whisper, only to feel the next in line lean with me so she could hear too.

“Well, I thought to divide my shopping into two – one for the next week” I explained, praying this was the right answer. She nodded, and finally, after paying for my two boxes, I was released, and made my way homeward.

Later that same day, my ready packed and correctly labeled box in hand, I returned to Dafna, as I discovered she was called. Again, a very, VERY long line. After waiting no more than a minute, Dafna’s eagle eyes spotted me.

“You!” she boomed, pointing a menacing finger at me. “The Soldier’s mother!”

I looked up, startled, feeling myself starting to blush as the entire line turned to look at me. ”Come, bring me the box, we’ll send it right away. That way he’ll get it before the weekend”.

Once again I waited for the usual lynching - “there’s a line you know” or “I was here first”, but no, just understanding smiles, waving me to the head of the line, so another soldier could quickly receive his package from home. All of us, the same family....

#soldiers #parcelfromhome #text #photo