An Open Letter to my Nephew in the Suck

i don’t know when he’ll read this, but i know he reads when he gets a chance.



i came down to Jen’s for 2 days to visit since mom flew down to help with lauren. we went o longdoggers and the made my wings too salty, then we took lauren to the theater by publix to watch despicable me. came home and i cooked for for the girls. Jen’s streseed with work and school and mom’s still dealing with Paw-Paw passing- yesterday was his 2 month anniversary. Jen came home, the girls ate and sat around watching TV and bs’ing. Baron’s fucking HUGE now btw. drank a few beers and crashed.

it’s mid afternoon thurdsay now. it’s rainy out since we’re in hurricane season. i went out to the channel and the dolphins showed up for a minute. last few times i came out they didn’t show. mom ended up taking a nap with Lauren so i headed to the base. bought a pair of blue low top chuck’s, and some smore’s for the girls. i didn’t feel like heading home so i drove up A1A for a bit. it was drizzling but nothing to harsh. the sky looked like something out of a joy division song (google it youngster) and i stopped at hightower to watch the water.

told you.

told you.

the plan was to just sit on the pier for a bit and watch the water. there were still a few people out; couple of skim boarders, one chick on a paddle board, and grandma with a her 3 little girls collecting shells. you know, the typical shit for such an overcast day. then you popped into my head. i thought about you, out there, in the suck. i though how you must be thinking of this same beach, doing the same shit with your friends. i knew you WISH you could just wade through the swells for one second. i walked down the pier, took off my flip-flops, and did this.

miss you Kris. SB is here waiting on you.

miss you Kris. SB is here waiting on you.

it’s late july so the water was pretty nice, even after all the rain. waded in it for a bit, got out, climbed back up the pier and laughed as a fat woman hit all three buttons cause she didn’t know the one to rinse her feet. i washed off, got back in the car turned on jackson back to jen’s. drove past the middle school and giggled as i remembered your goofy young ass back when you 12-13. the past the high school and remember you being the obnoxious goofy but lovable high schooler. when i got home mom was up and Baron screamed as i fumbled with the lock. we’re waiting for Jen to finish school so we go eat, i think we’re going to goombay’s, i dunno.

but i went out back, sat on the pier looking down the channel and thought about you, and that suck-ball hell you’re in. never been to afghanistan, but i don’t know know anyone that’s been that came back and gushed over the experience. but i know the dreadful monotony, the God awful food that never changes, i know the isolation, the lack of any real privacy. the only thing that really changes is your work-out, and even that eventually becomes predictable. the day passes on in an eon, the week in an eternity, but the months pass in second. you get there march, and can’t wait for the the end of the week. suddenly the month is gone, then you realize; you’ve been there 7 months.

you’re never clean; i mean, seriously comfortable “out of the shower stroll to the living room fresh and squeeky as you surf the channels. you miss that clean. then ever miniscule detail of your old life becomes paradise. waking up in your own bed, just bullshitting over NOTHING with a couple of friends, a cold beer, stopping at a local joint to eat something you’ve had a million times before. it was so routine, random, ordinary. now…you’d give the last 10 years of your life for ONE.DAY of your old life. and you realize something that takes most people several, several years to understand.

those moments are the very fabric that make your life perfect, it just took this God awful choice and this God forsaken place for you realize it. and now….you cherish those moments.

you’d die for them.

let me tell you something boy, and i want this to sink in really good: what you know now, in your early 20’s, most people don’t realize until they are watching their final years slip past them. i’ve seen more death, and more suffering than you could possibly fathom, and i know you know it. so take this lesson, sear it into your melon, and never forget it once you get back.

i’m proud of you Kris. i’m glad to see you finally stood up, grew some balls and let go of momma’s skirt. i remember when you a kid, and when you were a teen, and Keith and Jen did well. they did the best any parent could do, and i know you realize that now. yeah, you fell down. and a lot of people would have used that as an excuse, blame their parents, kept a chip on their shoulder and led a life of absolute worthlessness.

but you didn’t. you got your sorry ass up, took responsibility, and made a decision. that’s was key. most guys (i can’t speak for women) fall down, and they stay down, they wallow in self pity. FUCK THOSE GUYS!!! don’t let such people permeate your life, they are a cancer and only want you to be as miserable as them. get your ass home and take this and apply it. be something. i don’t what it is as long as you’re passionate about. and i promise you this: it won’t be easy ; but it’s not impossible. before boot, you NEVER thought you could accomplish what you did. it sucked, but you made it. remember that.


you take that fire, that drive, and keep it vaulted away in you gut until the day you heart quits. when that fire’s gone. so are you. this world is a cold place, and it will consume you without hesitation.


i know you have emails to send out and other people to talk to, so i’ll end this. stay frosty, watch your 6, and get your ass back home boy. just remember Little Shaver, Uncle Danny’s proud of you. I love you Kris.

stay the fuck up.

Paw-Paw passed away 2 months ago yesterday. i found this on my phone. i though i had deleted it. i don’t know the poem (cool points to the reader that knows the name of it). but i think he was reciting it because it made him think of Maw-Maw.

And here’s the old man flirting with a bartender before we left.

10 Comments on “An Open Letter to my Nephew in the Suck”

  1. Jeanette says:

    I’m pretty sure I get the cool points cause I can name that tune in 2 notes 🙂

  2. CLG says:

    Pretty sure thats “Danny Boy”, but your paw paw used “roses” instead of “flowers”. threw me ’cause it wasnt sung and some of the words were changed from the version I grew up with. but there are a million versions. fitting if it is.

    And if you come, and all the flowers are dying
    If I am dead, as dead I well may be
    I pray you’ll find the place where I am lying
    And kneel and say an “Ave” there for me.
    And I shall hear, though soft you tread above me
    And all my grave will warm and sweeter be
    And then you’ll kneel and whisper that you love me
    And I shall sleep in peace until you come to me.

  3. MissMarie says:

    So sweet, Danny. Makes me all verklempt. Also, Danny Boy was one of the first real songs I learned to play on the organ 😉

    • dannyfrom504 says:

      Dude, I was teaching him about girls way back when he was 11. Right after he graduated boot camp, he actually started using what I had been telling him. “Danny, it really does work….!!!?!!” I just had to laugh.

  4. […] An Open Letter to my Nephew in the Suck […]

  5. Carolina (place not a name) says:

    This post is pure, 100%, unadulterated, weapons-grade Alpha.

  6. Mark From 423 says:

    “the sky looked like something out of a joy division song”

    Dude… turning someone (the right kind of someone) on to Joy Division is a gift. That music really transcends time. They were so far ahead of the curve.

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