I have become a knitting fool

For you skeptics who are wondering why I should even mention my knitting addiction-let me say that I have found a wonderful way to at least temporarily cast away worries and concerns-something any military parent needs to know how to do . During my last two Plebe summers I ran-well sort of  ran-but enough to be able to complete a marathon.But right now it is very cold outside-plus I am committed to spending at least 4 hours a week on bleacher seats(I call the result bleacher bottom but that is another story).

So what do you do when you are confined to a gym in the situation where your son plays on the JV and might get in for the Varsity-have your guts twist up inside in disappointment when he doesn't make it in? Snarl at the referee when you really want to throttle the coach? I pick up my short pointy sticks and start knitting furiously.

Worrying about the PRT(physical readiness test) or academics or drill instructors?-that is good for at least one scarf. How about if they will get leave for that family event?-a pink cotton chenille washcloth can handle that. Flight school-performance in the trainer-will he get jets or helos-and the unspeakable events that as the wife of a instructor pilot  I have seen occur; his buddies on the Syrian border, her deployment to Afghanistan-well now I am starting an afghan.

Actually I just came across a site where you can knit for the troops-so I am going to check that out as well. I feel a new affinity for all those women in WWI and WWII who knit away and rolled bandages-the mindless acts of meditation of a stitch combined with prayers for those I love and in harms way help me stay somewhat peaceful. This world is a scary place and our children have chosen to be in the middle of it all-at least they will have something that keeps them warm to take with them.

It's the little things that count..

All four in one place at the same time-it's a miracle!

As a military mom it is not only the big things that get to you-it can be the every day things that most take for granted. For example getting all four of mine in one place at the same time is quite a challenge. As I sit on our hilltop farm and look out on a holiday I can see clusters of families gathering together-not my kids. I may be lucky to get a double or a triple but very seldom do I get a home run of everyone together.

It's funny-when they were home all the time I think they got the basics of hand to hand combat completed in my living room. I would head to town and war would break out. The battles raged, casualties abounded including lampshades and then the phone would ring. " Kids, I am on the way home-anything else we need?" Immediately they sprang into action just like Thing1 and Thing 2-in this case also Thing 3 and Thing 4-and all worked together to put things back in order.  A few days later I might ask, "What happened to this lamp shade? " to be met by silence. Of course all of this has only recently been disclosed now that the statute of limitations has run out.  They work hard to see each other when they can, but that little thing of normal life together is a thing of the past.

When they were home I knew their friends,their comings and goings, and supported them in their activities. I sat on so many bleachers  that I developed bleacher bottom-an increase in girth directly attributed to hours sitting in the car or the bleachers. Now the questions remain unanswered-what did you do at work today, where are you, when will you be home? OPSEC reigns supreme and I find myself reading the news to figure out if my kid might be there. The not knowing-and being less a part of their lives because of it-those are little things I took for granted in years gone by.

I have to say the one thing that really has upped the ante when I think of the little things is my grandchildren. During my sons' first deployments they were newlyweds. Their wives stepped it up and bravely held down the home front. They dealt with all the things that can go wrong. As it says in Mrs
Murphy's Law :
           If anything can go wrong it will happen when he is out of town-or on deployment.

But this time around-well it is different. There is a little girl left behind. Six months when Daddy left and she will be a year old when he comes home. The first tooth, the first steps-no amount of technology can replace missing those milestones.When we talk about personal sacrifice- it can be the little things that mean so much.

Off we go.......

Never forget

The news is full of 9/11 stories. I find them almost painful to read-it seems like only yesterday. But my life changed dramatically that day-especially my life as a mom , although I did not realize it at the time. It seems fitting that I would add to the chorus of remembrances, to keep the memory painfully fresh.

It was a beautiful fall day, except my five year old had a high fever. My husband, an airline pilot, met me at the doctor's office. The other kids were all in school, except our oldest. He had just finished Plebe Summer at the Naval Academy. The previous weekend I had gone to visit him and go to my first Navy football game. It was  Firstie Parents Weekend, and the Class of 2002 parents were all there beaming with pride. It had been a lovely time. But now I was home and so grateful my husband would be there to help with a really sick little guy.

Our doctor, a former Air Force physician , burst through the door and was so happy to see my husband.  As he told us what was going on, we realized why. How could a pilot make a mistake like that? It  must have been a serious mechanical error. As we watched the TV the horror became revealed, and now antibiotics in hand we rushed home. Our brother in law flies for American -where is he? The kids at school-important they know Dad is OK...it was a flurry of frantic calls. and then the next blow-the Pentagon and all of a sudden my thoughts turned to our son at the Naval Academy. What was the scope of this -could he be in danger?

At the same time USNA was put on lock down. Upper class Midshipmen lent Plebes their phones  to call home to let parents know they were OK. Other calls went out from the Academy trying to find out if their parents and family members were alright. In a culture of service, many family members were firemen and policemen, and many had family members stationed at the Pentagon. At the end of that day 11 USNA grads were lost in the attacks, and more would be lost in the War on Terror in the years to come.

The Class of 2002 graduated and became warriors in that battle. Applications to the Naval Academy skyrocketed from 11,000 to 19,000 as a new generation felt the call to serve. And in the coming years each of my children would answer that call.

The economic blow was also a sucker punch. My husband's airline went bankrupt along with several others and thousands of pilots lost their retirement benefits. My husband retired and ultimately spent three years flying in Afghanistan -I joined him to teach in Kabul.

Those at ground zero lost everything. But the ripple effects are almost unfathomable-so many lives touched by such evil acts. Each of us has been affected in some way. I thank God each day for those who stepped up to serve in the midst of this war, and those on the home front who continue to support their troops. Let us teach the next generation and those to come to never forget, no matter how painful those memories may be. Let us honor those who have given the last full measure of devotion, in the air, on the land  and sea, or in the towers. Never forget.....

CRASH

"Mom, I was surprised you didn't call me about the crash? " CRASH?! I had heard about a possible F/18 crash but I had been very busy that week. When I googled I could find no mention of it. Besides my Marine was sick in Florida not in California....

My mom radar was definitely on the blink. As an aviator's mom(make that triple aviator's mom ) I scan the news daily for any mention of a mishap that might remotely involve my boys or any of their compadres. And when a news crawl or google alert pops up I am on the phone, if possible, checking  to make sure my kid is safely on the ground.

Such is the life of a military pilot's mom. It doesn't matter if they are deployed or not. Every day they do battle with physics. My Marine in his F/18 defies gravity and the speed of sound, flying way too close to another airplane to make a mom comfrotable. My P/3 NFO is up for hours in OLD airplanes-thankfully soon to be replaced. And my Army ROTC cadet in helicopters-those things fly way too close to the ground, don't you think?

But this accident snuck right past me. Thankfully the pilot-a buddy from flight school-and the  Whizzo escaped to tell the tale, despite sustaining serious injuries.

I should mention I am also the wife of an aviator who has flown for 40 years in and out of the military. I have seen the black smoke of an accident more than once. But when it is your kid at the stick, it brings the word worry to a whole new level.

When two of them deployed last year to the far east, people would ask me if I was relieved they weren't in Afghanistan. Not really-the skies they flew near were not necessarily friendly. But that is what they do -and they are proud of it. So I pray, and scan the news, and pray some more. The Navy Hymn has a verse for aviators " Lord guard and guide the men who fly...yes please do.

The safest way for Mom to fly..in the simulator