Honoring a Hero

Senses can become dulled when they are not used. And my “patriotic sense” had been lulled into that dull sense of security because I feel safe. And because of that sense of security I did not necessarily always think about the men and women serving our country. However, that changed this past week. On Thursday, a Hero arrived home to this small town. He was met with crowds of everyday Americans, some who knew him and many who did not; crying, waving flags and saluting as the motorcade drove through the town from the airport. It was a homecoming yes, but not in the sense of joy. Our brave hero came home not to live life, but to rest in peace. Twenty-four year old 1^st Lt. Robert Collins was killed in action on April 7 while on duty in Iraq, not even six months after his arrival. 

This past Saturday, the last large gathering of his short life occurred. His funeral. On the front row were his mother, father and fiancé. Seeing his flag covered casket in front of the stage of a large church in town, grieved me. But even more so, were the faces of the three figures on that front row. He was an only child. His parents will now grow old with no wedding to plan, or grandchildren to embrace.  They are now parents who have had to bury their only child. And my heart weeps for them. His fiancé will never know the joy of picking out china patterns, a wedding dress and dreaming of babies and a future together with him.

I sat in the pew listening to the words of comfort from ministers and friends, watching the still pictures of his life fly by on the video screen, tears streaming down my face. I looked around me and saw the hundreds of other people, some like me who did not know the young man at all, but wanted to come and show support for the family. The additional hundred motorcycle riders patiently waiting out in the hot sun for two hours, holding flags as the motorcade arrived and saluting as it left. The untold numbers of military men and women, in full dress uniform, scattered throughout the congregation showing their support of a fellow comrade in arms.  Perhaps the most touching moment of all was at the end when someone from the military spoke of his exemplary service in his short career in overseas. She then kneeled and presented his parents with the Purple Heart and his fiancé with the Bronze Star.  A soft “attenTION” was heard when the casket was carried to the vehicle that would carry him to his final resting place. And, although I did not attend the graveside ceremony, I can imagine taps being played, a twenty-one-gun salute heard, and a beautiful presentation of the American flag to his family.

The honor, dignity and gratefulness shown to our hero’s, and specifically 1^st Lt. Robert Collins has awakened my senses. Thank you men and women, both those who are serving presently and in the past and those who have died while serving. Thank you thank you thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You willingly give of yourself to protect people who don’t even know you, may not like you and some that unfortunately hate you. But you don’t care. You defend a piece of parchment that was written and signed over two hundred and thirty years ago when a group of men said “enough”. You serve for a higher purpose. A purpose of Freedom, knowing that ALL men were created equal and deserve the right for Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. I will not forget nor let your service be in vain… 

Old or New?

There is a certain commercial playing on TV right now that I think is absolutely creative. Its the "Kindle" commercial. How cool is it to see before your eyes the many genre's of books available to you in an instant? But every time I think about one day purchasing a Kindle, I see my bookcase and wonder what it would look like. Bare, empty shelves or filled with knickknacks, rather than stories. I see the stacks and rows of books I currently have and begin to think how much I would miss them. The old books, some falling apart with pages so delicate they must be turned with care. Some well worn with dog ears, creased pages and pen markings testifying to the numerous times they have been read. And then there is the smell of a fresh new book, the soft crackling sound that a book spine makes when being opened for the first time and realized - I can't! I cannot trade my dear old and new friends for ANOTHER technological advancement. The Kindle is cool, yes, but friendly? No. I cannot drop tears on it when reading a sad part in a book - it might short out! I can't fold a page over to remember where I left off or dog ear a section I want to read again. Its not easy to snuggle into a blanket on a cold winter day with hot chocolate, and a rectangular pad. Oh no, you want that warm feeling of a page turning while you eagerly anticipate the next page in the book. Or when you are a kid and have a flashlight and a book under your covers, eagerly sneaking a few more pages before you fall asleep.

The Kindle is a neat "toy", but it is just that, a toy. Another gadget to remove me from days gone by. My books are my friends. They comfort me, encourage me, make me laugh, help me cry, scare me and uplift me. All with their words encased in the security of a beautifully illustrated cover just begging me to come see what new adventure awaits! So thank you, creator of the Kindle, for your fascinating invention, but I'll stick to the past. After all, books of some type or another have been around for thousands of years. I'll take my chances of not being on the cutting edge... because sometimes, you just don't wanna get cut.

A Day in the Park

Last Saturday I spent a few hours basking in the sun at a nearby pond and walking trail. I brought a book to read, but after cracking open the spine, realized that I had just recently read it. This saddened me greatly as I was looking forward to reading, but a distraction soon surfaced. A golf cart with some friends I hadn't seen in months drove by as they parked to go fishing. The next hour was pleasantly spent chatting with my friends about everything and nothing. When they left, I once again was alone with my thoughts. I pulled out my laptop and started on some schoolwork, but soon became distracted by the sleepy feelings the warm sun brings about. I love to people watch, so I contented myself with surreptitiously observing the people walking the trail around the pond.

There were a few runners, but most people were out walking their dogs. There were all kinds of dogs! Small ones, large ones, medium sized ones. Some with prissy leashes and clothing, and some that fetched sticks out of the water. (There was in fact one particular dog who was very spoiled... his owner was pushing him or her in... a baby stroller!) But all of them were happy go lucky, tails wagging and tongues lolling from their mouth enjoying the day. The people may not have smiles on their faces, but their four legged friends did! Dogs have an amazing ability. And that ability is to unconditionally love their owners. When I see my own puppy look up at me with those deep brown eyes as he trots over to lay down next to me, I can't help but feel that he really does love me. Granted, animals do not have quite the same capacity for love that humans do - but they are loyal, and fiercely protective. I think they can be an example for us. Life is hard, no question about it. But we can view it in two ways. With a sour look and a poor attitude, or by throwing our heads back, smiling, shaking off the negativity and taking life as it comes while energizing ourself with the love of those around us.

Life is like ... a bag of onions??

In the great words of the Ogre Shrek, on "Shrek", "Ogre's are ... like onions!" well, so are people. Not in the smelly sense (although some are), but in that we have times in our life where events are like onions. Layer upon layer of issues, hurt feelings, and just "stuff" to work through. And of course, what accompanies onions? Lots of tears! When we come to points in life where it seems like all you do is cry, that would be an onion time. It must be dealt with, or it will never go away. Rather it will fester and remain a smelly mess that infests your life. Issues must be faced, hurts addressed, and feelings restored.

For the past roughly two years, I've had a rather large onion that I have been dealing with. Divorce, and all the things leading up too and following it, is probably one of the smelliest and largest onions of them all. There are times when you feel like the layers are never ending and the tears won't stop falling. But they do... in time. And that is where I now find myself. The last layers are being peeled and thrown away. The worst of the tears are over, and this onion is on its way down the garbage disposal. There's been a box in the top of my closet that held all the memories, pictures, cards, notes, etc. from my marriage. Its been there for almost a year, but finally last week it was time for the shredder! As the contents became tiny rectangular pieces of paper, it was like a weight lifted off my shoulders. I felt like I could breathe again. While Divorce will unfortunately always be a part of my past, it does not and will not dictate my future.

How do you change directions in life?

All my childhood, teenagehood and young adulthood was spent dreaming of and searching for "Mr. Right". Found him (or thought I did), dated and married him. Three years later I'm typing this in the aftermath of a divorce. He left ME. He cheated on ME. He wasn't attracted to ME anymore. Abandonment, rejection, betrayal, pain, hurt... these are a few of the emotions that I have felt for the past two years. Now, don't get me wrong - I know I'm better off without him, because he emotionally drowned me. I have no idea who that person was that I became while married to him. You know the feeling of when you are at a concert and the music is so loud that you hear the buzzing for an hour afterwards? Well, that is what I felt like... that I had a buzzing in my ears and really did not know what was going on around me for the past two years.

So my question is - how do I change directions in my life? When all I was looking for before was the person I would marry. And now I am not. What do I do? How do I figure out who I am and what I should or want to do? I can't live my life in an "escape", nor do I want to. But what DO I do? How do you completely change your mind from what it had been like for 20 years?

That is my cry, my angst - the quest of my soul...