The Irish Twin

2010-03-13T04:23:00.003-06:00

Writing is a catharsis for me. It has always been a place to that I run to for many reasons. Sometimes to fight for a cause. Sometimes to reason through a problem. Sometimes to rage. Sometimes to heal a place in my soul that a bandaid can't fix. Today, I write for all of the above.
I have posted many times about my military connection. This posting, once again, has ties to the military. It is a story about a young man, full of promise, bound by his love/hate relationship to his job, like many of us, and loved by his family, his friends, and his brothers in arms. So much of this story, I am not ready to tell, but I wanted people to know about this man, and how he lived his life.
Daniel (Jake) VanMeter was a soldier, a member of the Old Guard -The 3rd U.S. Infantry Regiment. They are a special regiment that, among other duties, serve as Tomb Sentinels at the Tomb of the Unknowns, or carry their brothers to their final resting place in the peaceful fields at Arlington. They serve in many other capacities protecting our freedom around the world. Jake was a soldier. Jake was a son, a father, a man.
On Monday, Jake was taken from this world. Maybe God needed him more right now. I know he has left boots that can't be filled. Having just returned from Iraq, where he was serving with the 172nd Infantry Regiment, he was currently stationed in Schweinfurt, Germany. He died in a fire in his off-post quarters. This man, with all of his special training, excellent health, strength, and agility, was overcome by smoke and did not survive, despite the valiant efforts of rescue workers. He left this world and moved on, as all good soldiers do, to his next mission. Jake loved his children, and others, more than life itself. I'm sure that he fought to the last moment to return to them. It was not to be. His next mission was already on the books. This fun loving soldier, with that mischievous twinkle in his eye, was gone, leaving behind devastation in his tracks. If we take nothing else from his passing, he would want us to take this lesson...Live life to the fullest. Forgive transgressions. In the big picture, they mean nothing. Tell those you love how you feel. You never know when that opportunity will be ripped from your grasp. Last, but not least, be someone you can be proud of. You don't have to be a superhero, but be able to look at yourself in the mirror and say "I am all that I can be!" Leave no regrets.
One final note- As we are about to enter daylight savings time, replace the batteries in your smoke alarms. If you don't have one, get one, NOW! Do it for Jake. Do it for those you love. Do it for those who love you. Life is tenuous and fragile, at best. Don't give up one second of it willingly! Fight until you can't fight anymore.
We will miss you, Jake. Know that you are loved and that we, who are left behind, will circle the wagons around those you loved. Rest peaceful in that holy place of honor your brothers are about to carry you to, knowing you were our superhero and the light still shines for you. Thank you for sharing your moments on earth, however brief, with us. God speed!

The Lesser of All Evils

2008-10-08T15:44:00.003-05:00

Last night, I watched the debate between our two choices for the new President of the United States, and all I could think of is "Is this the best we could come up with?" It is not the first time during an election that I have thought that, but geeeeeeeee, do elections always have to be about choosing the lesser of all evils?
During the Vice Presidential debate, I really was watching to see if Joe Biden would suffer from foot-in-mouth disease, which evidently is a recurring illness for him, or if Sarah Palin would fall on her face, as everyone seemed to expect. What I came away with is "duh, boooooorrrrriiiiing!" Last night, I had hoped to see more. I wanted to get answers. I wanted lightning to strike. I wanted divine intervention to tell me who to vote for. Instead, I saw a song and dance show that couldn't be outdone by the Rockettes. Can anyone just answer a straight question?
When I was a child, I learned the rules of communication:
1: Be polite, even when it's hard.
2. Answer truthfully
3. Wait your turn to talk.
4. Don't talk with your mouth full (and I'm not specifying full of what!)
Last night, I saw 2 men who chose not to follow the rules that their own campaigns had agreed to. They wouldn't answer more than half of the questions put to them, but instead went back to some question asked 20 minutes prior because they finally thought of a good answer (in their own minds, anyway!)
I am tired of having to vote for the lesser of all evils. I want a man I can look up to and say "Yeah, that's the guy I voted for!" Instead, this election, I will vote, but I probably won't admit to who I voted for when I'm done because I'll be too embarrassed!
There are millions of people in the United States. Is this all we could come up with? Now, I will give to John McCain that he is a true hero. He served his country, suffered for years as a POW, and I'm sure suffers still the after-effects of that adventure. Unfortunately, he was involved, even if not charged, with a big scandal not all that long ago. He also wants to offer immigration immunity to everyone here and then start over. Didn't we already do that once? There are illegal aliens getting in-state tuition at the colleges I would love to be able to afford to send my children to. Unfortunately, they don't qualify for a La Raza scholarship. My daughter is serving her 4th year in the US Army as a medic to be able to go to school and my son went to work without the benefits of college.
Barack Obama comes out of my old hometown, Chicago. He seems to have made some friends there that my Mother would have told me "weren't the right kind of friends to be associated with." His preacher comes off as racist and one of his other friends served as toastmaster to the Weatherman, a group that bombed homes, businesses, and really anyplace else, under the auspices of "protest". Now, having grown up in Chicago under the leadership of "old man Daley" and his machine, and not "Jr.", in a time when more dead people voted than live registered voters, bad friends in that town can take on a whole new meaning.
So I say again, is this all we can come up with? I do understand that anyone in their right mind would be stupid to put themselves out there as fodder for the press and campaign machine pros, to be burned at the stake and destroyed. For crying out loud, they could make Mother Theresa look like an 18th and Central street walker! But really, isn't there someone who wants to be my "Mr. Smith goes to Washington" hero?
Now my plan, as naive as it might be, is to throw out anyone who has ever had any involvement with politics and put a whole new group of people in there. There would be no parties and no paid lobbyists. We could just start with a new crop of unbiased, untouched, idealistic people who just want to serve their country and solve the problems we are facing. Get rid of the big fancy healthcare plans, golden parachutes, limos, and fancy parties. Just send in intelligent people with no agenda and see what they could do, while having to live like one of us! How much worse can it be than to have to listen to Nancy Pelosi do one more press conference? (This coming from a registered Democrat!)
Well, I'm hre to say, I am going to register in the next election in the "show me a candidate I can vote for, and I'll go with you party!" I refuse to continue to vote for the lesser of all evils. Come on America! With all the millions of Americans, can't we offer up more than this?

Fields For Freedom

2008-06-28T11:09:00.003-05:00

This morning, I took part in setting up the Third Annual Fields For Freedom display in Merriam, KS (a suburb of Kansas City). We built over 3000 flag poles and raised giant flags on them beginning just before dawn this morning. They will remain in place until the evening of July 4th.
I first took part in this 3 years ago in honor of my father, who was still living, and was a proud Marine from the 10th Amphibian Tractor Battallion that served in Guam and the Marshalls in WWII. Last week, my mother and brother attended his annual Marine Corp reunion in Quantico, VA in his place. He passed away the day before Thanksgiving, this past November. I also took part because my daughter is serving in the US Army as a Combat Field Medic. Two weeks ago, she gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, Jordin, and 5 days following, my son in law was deployed to Korea. In October, my daughter, granddaughter, and faithful puppy Dougie, will all move back to Heidelberg, Germany. This will be my daughter's second deployment there, having served there for 2 years on a previous deployment. She will make this move with a baby and a puppy, but without her husband, who will follow in a year, after his return from Korea. Did I mention that she turned 21 years old on the day her husband went to Korea?
This year, I also add to my "I'm doing it because list" the fact that my "adopted son" (not legally, but in my heart all the same) Emmett, is serving in Kirkuk, Iraq along with another of my former "Sumner Academy Boys" Brian. At the same time, a third "Sumner Academy Boy",Christian, who is also expecting a little one very soon, is serving his 2nd tour over in "The Sandbox".
I have very strong feelings toward the military and the jobs they do, they hardships they face, and the families they leave behind. That is why I am again participating for a third time in Fields of Freedom. Tonight, as I sit guard all night over those flags, I will do so with pride and great diligence. It is the least that I can do in honor of those who have served and those who are still serving. I will post pictures before the Fourth, for those of you who don't live nearby and can't come and see this wonderful display. On the Fourth, when the bagpipers play, and the bugler rises to play taps, and the Army Band sings their patriotic songs, both new and old, my heart will fill to the bursting point. I am proud of our Troops! Thanks for all that you do and God bless you and keep you and your families safe. Happy Birthday America!

I'm a Grandma! (And Not Proud of Some Sectors of the Army, Right Now!)

2008-06-15T16:54:00.005-05:00

On Monday, June 9th, my @#nd birthday, my daughter was down in El Paso, Tx being induced. We were all very excited that my granddaughter was going to be born on my birthday. Unfortunately for my daughter and son-in-law Matt, things didn't quite work out. After being in labor for 24 hours, they discovered that there were serious issues and took her in for an immediate c-section. Things were on the brink of going very wrong and thanks to my granddaughter planting her bottom in the right place, they are both doing ok. She arrived after dawn on June 10th, all 6lbs, 7 oz of her, at 17 1/2 inches long. She is said to have a full head of hair and her Mama's Asian eyes.
Bad news now! My daughter cannot drive for at least 2 wks and cannot carry anything due to the complications and surgery. Tomorrow morning, her husband is deploying to Korea. The Dr. who delivered the baby requested that he be allowed to stay another week to help out at home, which is allowed, and my son-in-law's NCO denied the request without hesitation. There is another group deploying the following Monday and it is acceptable policy that he be allowed to deploy at that time, but they didn't even consider it.
My new granddaughter has 3 scheduled Dr.'s appts. and is wrapped in a biliruben blanket 24/7. My daughter has a Dr. appt also. Her unit (and her friends) are currently in the field, which leaves her between a rock and a hard place. Tomorrow morning, she will pack the baby up in the car seat, wrapped in her biliruben blanket, and drive her husband to the airport at 4am. Then, she will drive back home again, against Dr.'s orders, and will carry the baby, in her seat, against Dr.'s orders, into the apt. (That is IF she can get out of the car by herself!)
Hello! Am I the only one who sees an issue with this? She just re-enlisted again, and will deploy with the baby back to Germany, while her husband will be serving in Korea for the next year, before he is allowed to join her in Germany. This is how the Army thanks their Combat Medics! (Both of them are!) I am now starting to believe the stories that I am hearing, how injured soldiers are being quickly dumped from the military so that they become the VAs problem. Only thing is, the VA is understaffed and unprepared to care for these horrific injuries that, in the past, would have killed these soldiers. I am hearing they wait forever to get care once they are dumped.
We ask our citizens to voluntarily join the Armed Forces, and when they do, we treat them this way? I am outraged! I am not naive about the jobs that my son-in-law and daughter signed up to do. I am also not naive about the policies that allow my son-in-law to remain home to care for his wife and child while, under Army Dr.'s orders, she is incapacitated. I am interested in hearing your comments!

Happy Anniversary

2008-05-13T17:12:00.003-05:00

On May 17th, my parents, George and Ruth, would be celebrating more than 50 years of marriage. Sad to say, not many people are lucky enough to reach that milestone. They raised four children active in sports and activities, and they participated in our schools and our church, showing us the way it should be done by their own actions. As a young child, my father worked nights, which left my mother to deal with the four of us a great deal of time. On the weekends, my father fixed anything and everything, thus earning himself the name “Harry the Handyman” which stuck with him until the day he died, the day before Thanksgiving, 2007. They worked as a team. My father was a quick learner, and so his favorite phrase became “Go ask your mother.” That possibly came because if my mother said no, we would corner him, hoping to get a different answer. (Honestly, it did work once or twice!)
Later in my childhood, my father traveled a lot for his job, and often took my mother with him. It gave them an opportunity to see the world and gave them wonderful memories and pictures to last a lifetime. Sometime ago, my father retired so that he and my mother could enjoy what he called “the golden years” together. Unfortunately, his health deteriorated shortly after his retirement, which curtailed, and finally stopped their travels. They traveled seldom then, and mostly just to family funerals or to the Marine Corp reunions with the Marine families my parents so loved. During the years, as his health worsened, my mother cared for him, and their love remained strong. He fought to watch his children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren grow.
Now it was well known to us, his family, that there had been a deal cut many years ago, whereas my father made my mother promise that he would go first when their time came to leave this world for a better place. Over a year ago, my mother had a stroke, although minor and he became very concerned. Then in October, she had a heart attack, followed by triple bypass. This was the indestructible matriarch of our family, and it shook the foundations of our family and made my father question whether she was backing out of their deal. That did not happen, because within days of my mother returning from the hospital, my father played his final card and won the game.
This week, my mother will celebrate this first wedding anniversary without him. It is a sad time for her, but I believe he is still with her (and us) and will be there with her especially on that day. It is a blessing when two people find each other in this great wide world and end up sharing a lifetime together. They were that lucky! Now she must find that strength that was the backbone of our family and find a way to go on until she sees him again. When that happens, he will be free of all the aches and pains of the world, as will she, and they will finally enjoy their golden years together! Until then, there is still a lot more of this one left to live, and a new great grandchild expected almost to the day of their anniversary. There may be some happy tears on that day yet!

Happy Anniversary Mom & Dad!

The Good Times

2008-05-06T07:19:00.002-05:00

Any day now, I will have a new granddaughter. My daughter Chelsea and her husband Matt are expecting a little girl, who should make her arrival known very soon. She will be a military brat, daughter of two Army medics serving in El Paso, TX at the moment.
Chelsea will make a good Mom. She is fearless, though barely over 5 ft. tall. She is smart, ambitious, and hopes to go into trauma medicine or rehab. She has seen more of the world in her short lifetime than I will see in all of my lifetime, and has experienced so much since entering boot camp days before her 18th birthday.
Her life hasn’t always been easy, but I hope that she has always known her family loves her. That love is something she will pass onto her daughter. In these days ahead, my only advice is enjoy each and every moment ahead. I used to always joke that you can’t wait for your baby to smile, then roll over, then walk, and then talk. Then you just wish they would sit down and shut up! In truth, these moments, these precious moments, as you watch your child cry her first cry, your life will truly begin, and it will never be the same again. Be a partner with your husband in this adventure, and nurture that partnership. It is just as important a part of the equation as being a Mom.
You will experience the sleepless nights, the fevers and coughs and runny noses. You will experience the scrapes, and maybe some stitches or broken bones. You will experience homework and sports and having to say no. You will experience the slamming doors and the silent treatment. You will have to watch that first love and that first broken heart. You will wait up nights worrying when she doesn’t come home on time, hoping and praying that something awful hasn’t happened. Before you know it, you will watch as she leaves the nest, whether to college or to other parts of the world.
Know that now, and the days ahead, are the good days, no matter how hard they may be from time to time. Enjoy each one to the fullest and remember that one day, she too will be a grown woman, have a family of her own, and her own life to lead. These are the good times. Enjoy! You’ll look back someday and wonder how they passed so soon!

Duty and Honor

2008-05-06T07:00:00.003-05:00

Two weeks ago, I got a wonderful surprise. I received a text message from a young man I call my “adopted son.” (Note: Just so I make myself clear, I actually have two “adopted sons”, and one is celebrating his 21st birthday this week, so Happy Birthday, Justin!) Back to the original story, the text message said “I’m in KC. Give me directions to where your new office is.” That message came from Emmett, the young man on the bottom left of the picture.
Emmett was one of my daughter’s best friends in high school, even though he was several years older than she. He was also one of “my” wrestlers, my little family of boys and one girl (yes, I remember Elise!) that wrestled at Sumner Academy. They are all about to enter college, graduating from college, starting families, or in several cases (Emmett, Christian, Brian, Glenn and Andy) serving their country in various branches of the military. Christian is currently serving his 2nd tour in Kuwait, having served his first one immediately following graduation from high school. Emmett is serving in Kirkuk, Iraq, as is Brian.
Now Emmett was half way through his 1st semester of his senior year at Kansas State University. He is very involved in his fraternity and was an intramural wrestler there. He entered the Army Reserves while in high school. He completed his basic training and then went off to college, serving his one weekend a month and during the summers. Just as his reserve contract was supposed to end, he got word that he needed to drop out of school and pack his duffel bag for a trip to “the sandbox”. So close to graduating from college- he didn’t complain. The Army had helped put him through school and he was ready to do his duty. It’s a volunteer Army and he signed up for it. That is not to say, however, that he was chomping at the bit to go!
The day that he showed up at my office, the women were all going crazy. Emmett is larger than life in real life. He is quiet, smiles a lot, and has impeccable manners. (Note to all of you reading this who know Emmett, stop laughing!) As I took him around my office and introduced him to all of my co-workers, they were so impressed (both with his manner and his muscles!) My director kept trying engage him in a political discussion, asking who she should vote for. He politely told her that he didn’t talk politics. Then she asked him how the soldiers felt about the war and he once more politely told her he could not speak for all of the soldiers. Somewhat frustrated, she asked him how he felt about the war. What he said surprised even me! He told her we need to stay at least 2 or 3 more years to allow the Iraqi people a fair chance at democracy. He felt that so much of the government there is still corrupt, and many Iraqis truly hold out hope that the next elections might really make a difference. He works closely in the reconstruction with the Iraqi people and has seen how hard they are working to make things better and how many of them put their own lives, and the lives of their families, at risk to help the Americans help the Iraqi people.
All we ever hear is the soldiers all want to come home and the Iraqi people hate us being there, and blah, blah, blah. Why is it that the American press tells us only the stories they want us to hear, and seldom the stories about the good things going on. Yes, it is dangerous. Each and every time they get in a vehicle, not matter how armor-plated it may be, they put their lives at risk. Each time the military comes up with new technology to help stop the IEDs, the enemy comes up with new technology to beat our technology. It’s like a very dangerous chess game with some very serious consequences, and yet still this young man, barely into adulthood, can see something that we can’t. Hope!
I am the daughter of a US Marine who served in the 10th Amphibian Tractor Battalion in the Marshall’s and Guam. I am the mother and mother in law of two US Army Medics. I am the “adopted” mother of a US Airborne soldier with the 418th Cavalry Battalion. I couldn’t be prouder of any of them. People may disagree on how we got into this war, whether we should get out of this war, and who should be making these decisions. My personal opinion is- let the military fight the wars and let the politicians deal with Medicare, gas prices, health care, the tumbling economy and keep their noses out of micro-managing things where they don’t have any business imposing themselves into. Let the boots on the ground make the decisions, not those who sit on their high horses, collecting their big pensions and great health insurance, while setting record pork barrel spending bills. In the meantime, many of the military families are struggling to survive at home, at the same time their loved ones are struggling to survive abroad.
No matter how you feel about this war, or any war, remember that these are the people who put their lives on the line for us day and night, and make less money than many of you reading this. They do it voluntarily and with a sense of honor and duty, tempered, I’m sure, with a fear they may never see their loved ones again. Please take a moment to thank those in uniform when you run into them at church, in the airport, a restaurant, or wherever you may see them. If you meet a family member, thank them for their sacrifice too! Most of all, say a prayer they all come home safely.
I am so proud of Emmett. I am proud of the man he has become and proud of the job he is doing. I am also proud that, when his tour is over and he comes back to finish college and enter the world, he will do good things because he is a good man. I met his frat brothers at a BBQ over the weekend and was proud that he surrounded himself with good friends while he was away at school. And lastly, I am proud that this good man’s parents have shared him with me, “his adopted mom”, all of these years, as I have shared my daughter with them. This morning, Emmett is winging his way back to Kirkuk.
May he return home safely soon. God bless the troops serving all over the world, at home and abroad. May he hold their families close, and may he bring peace to this world soon!

Pub Crawl Ahead

2008-04-19T15:42:00.001-05:00

As you may be able to gather from my blog name, I am Irish. You would never know it by my drinking habits though. There was a time, in my youth, when I was quite infamous for drinking anyone and everyone under the table, except when it came to tequila. It makes my stomach hurt, so never was my poison of choice. Now I’m the biggest lightweight on the planet, but I still enjoy a good glass of wine or an ice-old beer once in awhile. I also have been known to partake in a little Crown Royal, Jamison’s or a nice glass of scotch on the rocks once in awhile.
Recently, I went out with some coworkers after a long day a work, thinking it would be a great way to bond with the people I spend more time with than anyone else and also because I am the new kid (using that term loosely). The extra incentive is that the location chosen for this little get together is a rather new Irish pub. I just knew it was a sign that I was meant to go!
When I arrived, several of my coworkers were already there and had drinks in front of them., so I decided to stop by the bar and pick up a drink on the way to the table. I asked the bartender if she could make me a Half and Half. I love a good Guinness, but straight on is a bit heavy for me. The bartender assured me she could make me a Half and Half and would send it over to the table. When it arrived, I knew something was wrong, but being amongst new friends, I didn’t want to make a scene, so I drank it.
Later, as the group ordered another round, I asked for another Half and Half. The waitress looked oddly at me and said "You mean an Black and Tan". I assured her that what I meant was a Half and Half, and she just repeated "Yeah, a Black and Tan."
Now for you non-Irish out there, there is a distinct difference, so maybe I should explain. A Half and Half is half Guinness, a dark Irish ale, and half Harps, a lighter Irish ale. A Black and Tan, on the other hand, (which I have also been known to drink when Harps is not available) s half Guinness and half Bass, a lighter English ale. I think a Black and Tan is actually on the list of cardinal sins, given the war that still rages between the English and Irish in some parts of Ireland, but you do what you have to do sometimes.
In any case, I knew that what I was drinking was neither.
Let me state once again that this was supposedly and Irish pub that we were visiting at the time. I walked over to the bartender, a very sweet, personable young thing, and asked her what she had made for me. She said she made a Half and Half. I told her that the waitress called it a Black and Tan. She just looked surprised and said "same thing." I took a deep breath, and then explained to her the history of the two. Then I explained that what she had served me, although not terrible, was not either a Half and Half or a Black and Tan. She said it was their version of a Half and Half/Black and Tan. I took another deep breath, almost to the point of hyperventilation, and asked her what was in it. She said it was half Guinness and half Boulevard Pale Ale. Boulevard Pale Ale is a an ale from a local Kansas City brewery. I thanked her and went back to my group. When the waitress came around again, I passed on another round.
Now to some, this may not be a big deal, but for someone who doesn’t drink all that often, it became, for some odd reason, a big deal for me. I guess I’ll have to head to New York, Chicago, or Ohio. My brother and my nephew seem to have no trouble finding good Irish pubs in Columbus and Toledo. Surely somewhere in a city as large as the Kansas Cit Metro area, someone knows how to make me a proper beer. In the meantime, I guess I’ll have to do research, and that could be an adventure!

Sheeeeeeeee's Back! Ready or Not!

2008-04-12T11:36:00.004-05:00

Well, I am tired of getting emails from everyone saying where are you, so here I am. A brief explanation of why I haven't added a posting for 3 months-I didn't feel like it! Truly, that's it!
My life has been a whirlwind of change lately. After working in education for 14 years, I decided to take the big leap and change professions. It was easier to stay in a job that I was no longer happy in than to make a leap of faith and try something else. I finally made the leap!
As some of you may have read in past postings, the past year or so has been a bit difficult for my family. My mother had a stroke, which we were very greatful did not seem to cause many effects that couldn't be fixed with hard work. Little did we know that was only a precursor to upcoming events. In November, she had a heart attack, which she described as an elephant sitting on her chest, but of course she failed to mention it until the next day because the Cubs game was on! By the next night she was in the hospital and then the triple bypass followed. I can tell you that this week, she has finally been released from cardiac rehab and seems to be doing much better, thank you!
Did I mention that two days after we brought my mother home from the hospital, we put my dad in. Then we brought him home a few days later, knowing it would be his last trip. The day before Thanksgiving, my dad was finally released from his earthbound body and is now toasting with Col. Peck, my brother George, and many old friends who passed before him with a heavenly bottle of scotch!
In the midst of all of this, my daughter got married, is expecting her first child this May, and my son disappeared into his own "I'm an adult now!" world. Yes, I suffered from empty nest syndrome (except for the dog the parents of my former boss found and somehow I ended up with, and the cat my daughter found, that I somehow ended up with) I'm not exactly sure if I get to claim empty nest syndrome- maybe just empty of people nest syndrome. Is this a reason to file a claim for disability payments so that I can stay home and enjoy my house to myself, now that I've gotten used to it? You lawyers out there, surely you can make a case for me!
Ooooops! I may have failed to mention that a few days ago, my son discovered that all of that adulthood with rent, car payments, car insurance, food, gas, yadda, yadda, yadda is not all that it is cracked up to be and magically reappeared in his bedroom. It's okay. He can legally buy alcohol now, so I can send him out for some Jamison's or Corona's now, so he has a useful purpose! Just kidding!
Anyway, I'm trying to find my new self and adjust to all of the changes in my life this last year. I've been reconnecting with old friends (EEE) and listening to old songs I used to love over the phone that my brother has dug up in the Smithsonian archives or Utube or something. I've been awaiting my granddaughter and thanking God for not deploying my daughter right after the baby comes, which was the original plan. Her husband will be deploying somewhere soon, but will get to spend a little time with the baby first, due to a medical issue that has to be resolved first. I'm feeling greatful and blessed and exhausted and confused, which makes me, I suppose, ready to enter the world again. After all, isn't that where most of us are on a daily basis?
Just one more little note: This past week, I told one of my co-workers that I would see her in the morning and she replied "I'll be here!" Well, she lied. She left work and went to water aerobics and collapsed in the shower right after. She had a brain bleed and never woke up. As I write this posting, her organs are being havested to save the lives of many other people. I will miss her!
Please remember that now is the time to say the things to the people you love. You may be young or old, healthy or ill, but for any of us, this day may be our last. I have discovered that I don't want the last words out of my mouth to be "asshole" as someone cuts me off in traffic. I want them to be something kind, not that I am not human and won't slip from time to time! Don't put off that phone call, letter, or even text or email until tomorrow. Sometimes, tomorrow never comes!
Next posting-NOT depressing! I promise!

The Reason for the Season...

2007-12-21T19:13:00.000-06:00

Well, Christmas is fast approaching and I am having a tough time getting in the Christmas spirit this year! Really, this used to be one of my favorite times of year. I loved the snow, the lights, the tacky handmade Christmas ornaments that my kids made each year of elementary school (and I still have and hang every one of them, much to their dismay!) This year is different.

I guess it was to be expected. Fall was a tough time. My Mother had a heart attack, followed by triple bypass surgery and my Father passed away the day before Thanksgiving. That in itself, pretty much ruined any chance this year of "Happy Holidays!" But then, the upside started to appear-my brother (yes, the Irish Twin) announced that he would return to KC for the holidays. My daughter, the Army Medic, announced that she too would return to KC for the holidays. My sister, bless her heart, was finally able to return to work and is starting to return to somewhat of a more normal life (or what passes for normal when you are the parent of 4 children, all still in school, with one a teenage driver, and one with a learners permit!) I know, starting to look pretty good, right?

You don't know my life! Truly, I live "TheWorldTurnsGuidingLightYoungandtheRestlessIworkinthedaytimeanddon'tknowthenamesofthesoapoperasanymore" kind of life. In my life, what goes up, must come down. It is! Up-my daughter is home and my son-in-law hopefully will get leave in time to fly in Christmas Day. Down-my pretend-adopted-son, Emmett, will be home tomorrow or the next day, but then leaves to go back to Ft. Bragg, and then Iraq, on New Year's Day. Up-my daughter and son-in-law are expecting a baby boy around the middle of May! Down-my son-in-law got word today that he leaves for Iraq around the same time! Are you seeing the teeter-totter here?

Now, don't get me wrong! My Dad was a proud Marine. Semper Fi! My daughter and son-in-law and my pretend-adopted-son all serve, along with many other friends and loved ones, and can't begrudge a deployment. It's a voluntary military and they are willing to do their duty! There are so many families facing the same situations, or God bless them, situations much worse. I guess I'm just tired and don't think I can take much more bad news right now. I think we all put such high expectations on this time of year. Somehow, we seem to have lost perspective on the "reason for the season". I just watched the evening news, where they showed various holiday-themed clips... NFL football players taking up the handicapped parking spaces because they could afford the fine and didn't want to walk a little farther (I can't even delve into this topic any further right now without blowing a gasket!); people fist-fighting in the parking lot over up close parking spots; the usual Christmas shoplifters; and a host of other heartfelt and touching stories. Then I watched the story of the family who lost a son in Iraq, but fought to adopt their son's battle buddy-who happened to be a bomb-sniffing german shepard, and who was also injured in the attack. After nine months, they finally got the Marine's to release this fine animal from the Corp. and into their loving care. (A first ever for the Corp!) He will live out the rest of his days with the family of the Marine that he lay down next to as he died. The animal that licked that Marine's wounds and tried to keep him alive until help could arrive, unfortunately without a happy ending. After hearing that story, I started feeling kind of guilty for whining! It may have been a rough couple of months, but hey, it could be worse!

So maybe, the solution to this dilemna is to remember what this season is all about. Perhaps we all need to count our blessings and take advantage of each and every moment with the people we love. We need to bite our tongue when unkind comments want to leap from our mouths. We need to practice patience, with those around us, and with ourselves. We need to be grateful for what we have, and pray for those who have less, are suffering, are lost. We need to remember that it isn't about the gifts and the tinsel and the parties, but about the family and the heart! And most of all, we need to thank God for all he has given us, and pray for those in harms way who put their lives on the line everyday to protect us.

May you all have a wonderful holiday season, whatever holiday you celebrate! May you be safe, loved, and may we all live long enough to see true peace on earth!
Happy Holidays!

Ice Bites!

2007-12-08T23:45:00.000-06:00

Today, winter hit. Now, honestly, we've had some cold temperatures and some bitter winds. We've even had several inches of snow. Having been raised in Chicago, where it seems to be a requirement that Drivers Ed. doesn't begin until there is at least 6inches of snow on the ground, a little snow or cold doesn't bother me all that much. Ok, in the interest of maintaining complete honesty and integrity, I must admit that the older I get, the less I love the cold. As a child, my brothers and I used to play outside all day building igloos in the snow, having snowball fights, and ice skating or playing hockey on the tennis courts at the park. Many an adolescent received their first kiss in the warming house during those cold winter skating session at that park! I can shovel the snow, dress warmer for the cold, duck and strain against the winds, but ice is a totally different animal, and it bites!
What bites even more is that every idiot with a drivers license and insurance, and evidently many who feel those two items are not a requirement of driving, get out on the road as soon as they start announcing "The streets are icy, so stay home if at all possible". You would think that anyone with an average intelligence would say "Hmmmmm. Lets not drive all the way to the other side of town to go to the casino tonight. Lets stay at home and watch a movie instead." You'd think wrong! Now of course, there are those who have to get out due to emergencies, work, etc. I know my job in the school district requires me to come in. They don't care how bad the roads are or how much our lives might be at risk by attempting the drive in. Even when they cancel school and there are no students or teachers or activities, we still have to come in. That tells me that we are expendable and certainly undervalued, but that is another posting altogether!
Anyway, back to the ice. Not only do the cowboys get out on the road, but instead of driving slowly and staying back from any other car around them, ice drivers pretend the are in the Indy 500. They draft, rub, pass,and spin out- pretty much everything you see on a Nascar track. The only thing is, when they have to brake or go into a slide, they take it to a new level seldom seen in a Nascar race. Similar to a race though, they more often than not take out a lot of innocent drivers in the mix! Kansas, being a No Fault state, allows these morons to cause accidents, and then YOUR insurance company has to pay for it. Nobody is interested in hearing "The girl was talking on her cell phone in the middle of an ice storm, while applying her contact lenses, tailgating, and driving way too fast for conditions." What they hear is "It was icy and there was no way to avoid this accident. No Fault." Two months later, your insurance premiums increase by 40% because you've had an accident. Something is wrong with this picture!
In closing, here is a message to all of you who have to drive when icy weather hits (and especially those of you who just can't resist, even though you don't need to be out there!) Please remember that:
1. Your life and the lives of others are at stake as soon as you turn the key in the ignition.
2. You may think you have things under control, but you don't. Nobody does where ice is concerned. You just do the best you can and pray!
3. Even if you are VERY SPECIAL and do manage some control of your car, there is no way you can control what the other cars around you are doing.
4. Be afraid! Be very afraid! So afraid, in fact, that you don't go near another car; you begin your stop long before you get to the intersection; and you don't TOUCH your cell phone until the ignition is off.
5. If they say the streets are bad, stay home-DO IT. That makes it all that much safer for those of us who need to get out.
Note: For all of you employers who require your employees to come into work for no reason what so ever, value them enough to say "Stay home, be safe, see ya tomorrow."
Ice bites!

Where Do All of the Stupid People Come From?

2007-12-02T23:14:00.000-06:00

Do you ever wonder where all the stupid people come from?
Sometimes, after a long day at work, I need to come home and empty my brain out. So....I turn on the TV. There are certain shows that I just don't like to miss. I always watch the Ghost Whisperer, and then I watch Moonlight for the hot vampire guy! I love Grey's Anatomy, but I miss a lot of them and always end up buying the entire season on DVD. (Great to watch while waiting out a snowstorm or tornado, unless the darn power goes out!) Most of all, I love all of the CSI shows. They provide a community service by trying to teach all of the idiots out there how to commit the perfect crime without getting caught. Unfortunately for them, they must not be taking notes, or they are under the learning curve. Have you seen Cops?????
Why is it that when every one of these guys hears the squeal of a siren and sees the flashing lightbar, their first instinct is to jam on the accelerator, then race up a one way street the wrong way, where they hit a light pole, jump out of the no longer running (but now smoking) vehicle, hop over a fence where they remove all of their clothing, and then lay naked under a children's plastic swimming pool thinking nobody can guess where they are! This is not flashlight tag buddy. These are cops and they are legally carrying loaded weapons that they actually know how to use! Hello!!!!!!!
Of course, when this is too much for me, I can always switch to that reality TV show where people quit perfectly good jobs to go live on an island in the middle of nowhere. Once they arrive, they become pest-control agents, whereby they are legally bound to eat every bug, slug, snail, and unidentified object, while plotting and planning to get the other people kicked off the island. I'm here to tell you that in less time than it takes to type slug, I would be smashing out my flame on my own torch and heading to Bordino's in Fayetteville, AR for a good meal and a chocolate martini (even if they don't make them with the shaved chocolate anymore!) Anybody left on the island is welcomed wholeheartedly to my share of the tasty items on their deserted island menu with my blessing! REALLY! Now, at least, I know who to call if I have an infestation problem!
Then there is always the talk show. If am forced into brain drain down this path-suicide by talk show, I prefer to turn the sound off and make up my own words. It always much more interesting.
All of this brings me to the question that started all of this, which was, "Where do all of the stupid people come from?" It's a question that is philisophical by nature, like "Which came first, the chicken or the egg?" Was televsion invented to give stupid people a platform upon which to show their skills, or is it a plot by the government (or alien worlds) to eat away our brains and take over our cities?
Just to be safe, I think I'll start coming home, turning on some Irish music, and sipping on a "beverage". Surely that's safer than watching Jerry Springer!

I'm Just Too Young to Be a Granny

2007-12-02T19:42:00.000-06:00

This past week, my daughter was home on leave. It was a sad occasion that brought her home, (see "Heroes"), but it was good to see her. She is in the US Army and until recently, was serving overseas in Germany. Now she is posted in Texas, although it might as well be Germany, as much as I get to talk to her! This will be her last post, at least for awhile. Soon after the New Year rings in, she will be leaving the Army, at least officially (and the permanence of her leaving is still in question). Her husband is still in the Army and they will be moving to Ft. Hood in Kileen, TX. She keeps reminding me that "everything is bigger in Texas", and apparently that is true even for my barely over 5 ft. daughter. They are expecting! The rumor is that it may be twins, but I can't imagine that my daughter would tolerate that, so we'll see when the blessed event (I can say that, but not with a straight face!) occurs.
Now I have gone through this process twice myself, a boy and a girl-the perfect family. (Ahhh ...we'll have to discuss that in another posting, but I can hear my friends laughing all around the country.) Having trusted my prenatal care and childbirth to a close friend, I never knew there were drugs available, let alone the WONDERFUL invention called the epidural. No, I chose (not really-I wasn't ever really given a choice) to have my children with no medication of any kind. Note:
1. Do not choose an OB-GYN who, in their other life, is a drinking buddy of yours.
2. Natural childbirth is not all they crack it up to be. Take the drugs! Most doctors, like the one I had, for instance, who say natural is best, didn't give birth.
I have also had the great pleasure of having a stepdaughter who I didn't have to give birth to, but get to enjoy all the same. (Take note-this isn't a bad plan!) She has provided me with 3 wonderful grandsons (although there are days she might argue at least part of that statement). Somehow, it just seems different when it's my baby, my youngest child, giving birth.
When I was an adolecsent, my mother used to curse me by saying, "Someday, I hope you have a child just like you!" I did! Two of them, in fact! I am biting my tongue, even as I write this posting not to utter those same words! In fact, just the thought of my baby have a baby(ies), seems on many levels to be all wrong. I am way too young to be a grandma, let alone a grandma many times over. Just yesterday, an old friend from high school called and told me so! (I believed him too! Thanks Paul!) Perhaps I should explain that although my friend has seen a picture or two over the years, we haven't seen each other in person since I graduated at the end of my junior year of high school and moved to another state. Then he moved to California, which is nowhere near the state that I moved to. That might explain the lovely compliment, or maybe... it's just true.
Anyway, back to talking about me! I really am too young for this whole grandma thing, but since I make my living in early childhood, I've decided that I will try to find the silver lining. After all, 1. I don't have to give birth to him/her/them. 2. Grandparents get to enjoy all of the good parts, like having chocolate eating contests, or cookie dough fights, and then send the little darlin's home to their parents. 3. You only have to nod, smile and commiserate over sleepless nights, never having a shoulder that hasn't been urped on, and the inevitable trips to the ER to get an errant screw out of his/her/their nose. (Don't ask!) 4. You don't have to do parent/teacher conferences! (Enough said!)
Now don't misinterpret that I would change having my children. One lives in Texas, as I said, and I miss her terribly everyday. The other is soon to be 22,spreading his wings, and living his life as an adult. (Now, having said he, that intimates he is male. All of my early childhood training teaches me that men do not even start to grow a brain until age 25, and evidently car insurance companies agree, so again I say "enough said!") Watching them grow, watching me grudingly letting go, and at other times shoving as hard as I can, parenthood has been a learning experience for all concerned and it has made me appreciate my own parents more than I ever thought possible. The fact that I am alive still is a testament to their parenting skills! Now I just have to bite my tongue and not utter that curse, but you know what they say, "What goes around, comes around!" Besides, I'm just too young to be a granny!

Heroes

2007-11-30T19:47:00.000-06:00

It's funny how when you are a kid, your heroes are usually people (using that term loosely here) like Superman, or the Road Runner for always pulling one over on poor Wiley Coyote, or maybe the latest sports hero like Michael Jordan. My heroes were usually Cubs players or Bears players, Blackhawks or Bulls (Could you tell I had two older brothers, or a mother who knows more about sports than anyone I have ever met? The hockey referees thought she was so worthy-or they were tired of her telling them how to do their jobs-I'm not sure which, that they gave her an official referees jersey!) Then I got into music and one musician, and then another, were my heroes. It's funny, as you get older, you begin to realize what you may have been missing in your own surroundings-the same surroundings you worked so hard to escape as you began to be independent.

Last Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving, I was tapped on the shoulder (in reality, it was more slapped upside the head, as in the Marx Brothers movies I so loved as a teen) and shown what I had been ignoring for so long, in my own way. My heroes were the same people who loved and nurtured and raised me-and believe me, that wasn't always an easy thing to do! That day before Thanksgiving, when many were washing the turkey and cutting up the celery and onions for the stuffing, I was sitting with my mother, 3 weeks into recovery from a heart attack and triple bypass surgery. Also there was my sister, who tag-teamed with me for almost a month to provide round the clock care to my mother, and also to my father, who has been ill for many years with congestive heart failure, advanced emphysema, and cancer. My sister did this while trying to also spend precious moments with her wonderful and supportive husband and 4 children. To fill out this pre-Thanksgiving crew was the most important ingredient in this mix-my brother (my Irish twin) and my nephew. They had no idea what an important part they had to play in this day.

I'm getting ahead of myself in this story, so let me backtrack a bit. As I mentioned, my mother was about 3 weeks out from surgery and home for about 2 weeks. Within days of bringing her home, the paramedics were back to take my dad to the hospital. He has always been something of a miracle. Every time a doctor would tell us, over the many years he has been ill, "He is not going to pull a rabbit out of a hat this time", out came the rabbit. On the Monday before Thanksgiving, there were no more rabbits, and the magician wanted to come home. We struggled with whether we could get him home, but we promised him anyway. We brought him home on a beautiful, warm and sunny November Kansas City day. The temperature was one degree below the record high! He got to enjoy the sunshine and warm breezes and he was loving every minute off it. He knew he would never venture outside again.

That night, he drank a couple of Bloody Marys, his drink of choice for the last few years, and sat while I read him my brother's blog (see justblowingsmoke.blogspot.com). He was so proud of his son, who sometimes kicking and screaming, followed in his father's rather large footprints, and made his own unique version of them. Now my father, WWII Marine that he was, was not exactly what you would call "computer user friendly". Yes, he and my mother have a computer, but I don't believe my father ever touched the keyboard. That very night, as I read my brother's blog to him, he asked me to move over and show him how to do it. I taught him how to scroll through, pull up archived blogs, and even how to read the comments others made. He read every one. I was so amazed, I teased him and pulled out my cell phone and took a picture of him sitting with his oxygen tube at the computer. I knew no one would believe my father had entered the cyberworld. Little did I know how important that picture would become.

On Tuesday, my sister and I watched, and prayed, as my father struggled to hold onto this world and the family he loved so well. We knew my brother and nephew were due later in the evening and hoped they would get there in time. My mother sat with him and, without us telling her, realized that her 57 years of marriage to this man she so loved was about to end-at least for now. That evening, when my father realized that my brother and nephew would be walking in the door any moment, he suddenly became someone we hadn't seen in a very long time. When my brother and nephew finally arrived, we rushed to warn them that this was not what we had been seeing over the last week, and not to get the wrong impression. My father proceeded to become again the over-achiever he had been all of his life. He told stories of his childhood and his wild and crazy teenage years as a hot rod driving farm boy in Iowa. He told stories of joining the Marine Corp. at 17 and landing in the Marshall Islands soon thereafter. He told of his bachelor days just out of the Corp, and the early days of his courtship with my mother. We all talked for nearly 3 hours, when he became tired and said he was ready for bed. My sister helped him into bed and my father's over-achieving was coming to an end.

Throughout the night, my father slipped further from us. We gathered around and told him that we loved him, held his hand, kept our vigil. We assured him that my mother would be fine and he had fought the good fight. He dozed and awakened intermittently. At one point, he awoke and, when asked if he needed anything, said "Hmmmm, it's not what I expected." We all speculate on the meaning of that! As we neared dawn on Wedesday morning, he awoke one last time and my sister told him she loved him. He said "I love you too" and slipped away from us. Several hours later, his body let go. He had his family surrounding him, the wife he adored for more than half a century at his side, and a son and sister he missed beyond words waiting for him on the other side.

You may ask "Why share the details of something so personal?" I answer that, although this was one of the most devastating moments of all of our lives, it was also one of the most beautiful. This great man, who loved his family beyond everything else in the world; who was a true and loving life partner to the same woman for 57 years; who was lauded in the industry he was part of all of his adult life as a brilliant man with, as my brother always says "a moral compass that was always true and held others to the same standard"; had fought the good fight for more years than he should have had to. This man was no longer tethered to oxygen tanks and IV stands and struggling so hard it broke your heart. This great man was free! This man, along with the woman who stood by him and cared for him in his illness with the love and compassion that only comes with truly, unselfishly loving someone, showed me what real heroes are. They are the people you meet everyday. They quietly go about their lives, raising their children, providing for their families, never asking for anything, and not complaining when they don't get a fair shake in life. They lead by example, and though not perfect, I'd put them up against politicians, actors, musicians, sports figures, or just about anyone else you'd care to match up and I bet I'd win.

Monday, we celebrated my father's life, not his death. It was personal and healing and I know he was watching. I could feel him there, giving my mother, myself, my siblings, his grandchildren, friends and extended family his quiet boundless strength. Best of all, he was in his church with his God. His "band of brothers", the Marine Corp. was there to send him home with the pomp and circumstance they reserve only for one of their own.

Just one more note on this: my family will always be indebted to Catholic Community Hospice of Kansas City. They made my father's final hours peaceful and provided unselfish and unwavering support to my mother and the rest of my family, while asking for nothing in return. At the moment of his death, a sweet angel by the name of Nancy, stood with us as John McDermott sang Irish tunes in the background on the CD player. As he took his final breath, she whispered, "Listen to what song just came on." We were so lost in the moment, that none of us realized that in his final moment, Amazing Grace began to play. We will always be eternally grateful that she noticed. It became an integral part of his celebration, as was the Battle Hymn of the Republic.

As the roses and Bells of Ireland begin to fade, the memories of one of the world's true heroes never will for those who were blessed to know him.

Rainy Days and Mondays......

2007-11-12T20:20:00.000-06:00

What's that old Carpenter's song say? "Rainy Days and Mondays always get me down". I am not a rainy day hater at all. I don't mind working on rainy days. It seems you're not missing as much, somehow, if it's raining outside. If it's a rainy weekend, then it's a good time to get caught up on some indoor chores, or watch Season 2 of Grey's Anatomy or CSI (any of them) on DVD. It's even a good time to catch up on the latest Harlan Coben novel or clean out my email box.

Mondays, however.....I'm trying to think of something good to say, and I am drawing a blank! You're exhausted from the weekend, and need a day off to recuperate, but back to work you go! Not only do I hate Mondays on Monday, but I already start to resent them on Sunday, knowing it's looming over the horizon. Sometimes, I even start to resent Monday on Saturday night. I begin thinking of all of the things I need to squeeze in on Sunday because the next day is Monday. I don't know, but somehow, it just doesn't seem fair that Monday encroaches further and further into my weekend.

You don't often hear people say they hate Tuesday. You still have a long week ahead of you with no relief in sight, but somehow, it's just not MONDAY. The weekend may still be around the bend, but you can almost smell it. (Like right before it rains-you can smell it coming!) Thursday is like rounding third base-you're almost home! No matter what happens on Thursday, you know you can take it because it's ALMOST FRIDAY!

Friday....ah sweet Friday. In your mind, you have already started the weekend, which is why Friday meetings are really pointless. They can make you attend in body, but no matter what they do, you're brain is already on weekend! Weekends might as well start at noon on Friday. (Yes, I do realize that for some people, they do. Us peons, however, don't get to officially start weekends until 4:00pm.)

Then it's the weekend. You swear you're going to sleep late, but your brain is programmed to get up at the crack of dawn for work and won't switch over to weekend mode. (At least you can ignore it and roll over for awhile.) You lay there and plan out what you want to do with your weekend, and before you know it, it's Saturday evening and that resentment is starting to creep in. You go out with friends and tip a few Black and Tans, followed by just a taste of Irish Whiskey to chase it away. Before you know it, it's Sunday morning! The cloud of impending Monday is stronger than the coffee you have to drink to wake up and you spend the day rushing around to stay ahead of it. Before you know it, it's Monday again.

I'm sorry! I just can't think of a good thing to say about Monday. It doesn't seem quite fair that it has to be the most hated day of the week. Perhaps we should just make weekends a three day affair and incorporate Mondays into them. Monday has had such a bad rap for such a long time! I think we should give Mondays a break.

But then-Tuesday would become the most hated day of the week.......

Veteran's Day

2007-11-10T18:53:00.000-06:00

Sunday is Veteran's Day, a day of rememberance to honor those who served and those who died to protect our rights and freedom. When I was a kid, this used to be a very special day filled with parades and ceremonies. Now it's a day off of work for the bankers and postal workers and a day of sales at the mall.

As the daughter of a US Marine who served in the South Pacific as part of Lost Company A of the 10th Amphious Tractor Battalion
( see http://justblowingsmoke.blogspot.com/2007/10/lost-battalion.html) , I was raised with pride and respect for those who serve. Now my daughter, my youngest child, serves as a medic in the US Army. She left for basic training right after high school graduation, just days before her 18th birthday. She has served at Ft. Jackson, SC; Heidelberg, Germany; twice at Ft. Sam Houston, TX; and now at Ft. Bliss, TX. She is expecting her first child this June. She has seen things in her young life, caring for those coming back from "the sandbox", that most of us can't even imagine. Although she hasn't had to go "downrange" yet, (and as a mother, I am counting my blessings), many of her friends and classmates from high school, basic training and AIT school have. Some are on their second or third tour there. Many are like my own children.

Regardless of how you feel about the right or wrong of the war, the reason we are there, or when or how we should pull out, let there be no mistake! Those who serve, or have served in this war, or those past, deserve our thanks and our respect and deserve it without reservation. On this Veterans Day, take the time to remember those who gave the ultimate sacrifice. Remember those who served and then came home and got on with their lives. Remember those who are still paying the price for our freedom everyday-overseas; at home; healing from injuries visible and not; and for their families who worry every moment of everyday whether the chaplain will come walking up their sidewalk and knock on the door. The next time you walk through the airport and see a soldier in uniform, take the time to go up and thank him or her for their service. It only takes a moment, but that moment can be a lifelong memory to that soldier. If you are flying, and a soldier happens to be on your flight, ask the flight attendant to allow the soldier to deplane before everyone else as a sign of respect. Applaud the soldier as he or she does. Some of them are going to go "downrange" and some will not come back. Some of their families will be left with bills they can't pay, fatherless children, shattered lives, but proud of their loved ones who gave the ultimate sacrifice. The least we can do, as we sit in our comfortable recliners, luxury cars (or in my case, really good seats at the Kansas City Garth Brooks concert on Nov. 14th) is say thank you. Tim McGraw did that really well at an awards show awhile back.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j7ixC-LYDGc

For those in the Armed Forces home and abroad, past and present, from the bottom of my heart-Thank You!