Remember when you first started to understand politics? For Bill and I, it was when George Bush (Sr) was running for office. We were young and enamoured by the idea of running for president.
One night during the election, I came home and asked my parents if we were Democrats or Republicans. My father, who is not a particularly funny man, turned and asked if I would rather be a jackass or an elephant. Bush won the election, and my political views have swung toward the right ever since.
Fast forward to January 2013, when I asked Bill what president, still living, he would most like to have dinner with. His answer? Abraham Lincoln. I just looked at him. He laughed, and said Bush Sr. since it was that election he first learned about politics.
Knowing he was getting out of the Marines this summer, and that I wouldn’t have money to get him a really great gift, I employed the help of #41 himself.
Bill is a purple heart recipient….except he never had his ceremony for it, because the right people were never on base at the same time. I asked the President if he would send Bill a letter, acknowledging his purple heart, for me to give him.
Being the nerd I am, I couldn’t keep my mouth shut, and blurted it out to him in the truck one day. Bill didn’t have much of a reaction, because he didn’t think good ‘ole George would help me out.
A few months passed, and I sent the letter again. Nothing.
This past week we have been scrambling to get him ready for civilian life, working, and starting our lives under one roof. We were exhausted when we got home last night. Then we realized there was nothing in the house to drink. I ran out for some soda and grabbed the mail on the way back….and there it was. It was addressed to Bill, in a large envelope, care of ME. I just stared for a minute trying to figure out who was sending Bill mail with his full name and rank?
When I realized what it was….I flew in the drive, up the steps, and about attacked him on the couch.
He opened it, and his jaw hit the floor. It’s been almost 24 hours, and he’s still bouncing off the walls. I had a frame in the closet, just in case. So glad it fit! We examined the document thoroughly, and yes, it’s his signature….with a “#41” after his name.
I couldn’t get Bill an expensive gun or fancy hunting gear, but he keeps insisting this is better.
It’s hanging on the wall now, but he mentioned brining it to work tomorrow for show and tell!
The Tattooed Baker 