It had been almost a year since Roxy had gotten the letter saying her brother had died in combat. She told herself many a time she was done. With everything. With American flags, with the military, with that stupid yellow ribbon displayed on the tree in her front yard. And every time she went to take it down, she couldn’t do it.
She wasn’t sure what possessed her to do it, but Roxy decided to sift through the list of active Marines. Maybe it would help her cope with the loss of her brother. Maybe it’d gain her a friend. Whatever it might do, it had to be better than sitting at home, wallowing in her own loneliness.
John Winchester. The name popped out at her unexpectedly and she decided to look into it further. No one had chosen him to send care packages to. Not in the many years of service he had given. That didn’t seem fair. Alright, then. He would be the one.
Week after week, she packed up toiletries like deodorant, shaving cream, fresh razors, shampoo, conditioner, and soap. Eventually, she started sending him tv dinners and a six pack of beer from her local brewery. Before long, she would send cologne and whiskey.
Then she started sending letters.
I hope you’ve been getting these packages, and I hope these are things you need. Honestly, I don’t know what to send. It just dawned on me after three months of sending things that I could easily include a letter.
My brother served in the marines and died a year ago. I’ve dealt with a lot of resentment toward the US military, but putting these packages together for you has helped me realize something. Just because my brother can’t help you fight doesn’t mean I can’t try to do my part in the only way I can.
If you have anything you want me to send to you, my address is on the shipping label. Anything you want, I’ll get it to you.