Two blogs= too much. so I will be writing my posts from my othere blog "What's a mom like me"
Please join me there.
http://whatsamomlikeme.blogspot.com/
Please join me there.
http://whatsamomlikeme.blogspot.com/
Saturday, September 8, 2012
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Dinner is served
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| Our hosts and the special guests |
In the back of the room was a bank of photographers and TV cameras. Thankfully I was sitting at the end of the table so my profile was visible-not my backside. Here is a link to the seating chart and bios.
http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/reliable-source/post/whos-at-the-head-table-for-the-white-house-state-dinner-for-britain/2012/03/14/gIQA78vrCS_blog.html
I was sitting next to Warren Buffet's daughter and the date of Marva Smalls, Nickelodeon executive and the wife of the Vice Chair of the Joint Chiefs. George sat between her and Mrs. Obama. Most of my conversation was with that group. Meanwhile at the other end of the table, Courtney was seated between the Medal of Honor winner and his wife. He did have some conversation with Warren Buffet but did not disclose that he used to fly for USAirways. Warren has been quoted as saying that was the worst investment he ever made. He probably should have asked for a job at Net Jets!
The President and Prime Minister both gave speeches right in front of us. All around us were incredibly accomplished people who were probably wondering who we were and why we were there. Of course we were still wondering the same thing and continue to marvel at it.
Prime Minister Cameron spoke about the close relationship between the two countries and he used an example from Libya. At the break I approached him and told him how one of our boys was flying over Libya last summer and how I had been so concerned since Libya has more advanced anti aircraft weaponry. When I asked my son about it, he said they did have some difficult situations. When I asked what they did, he said "We called the Brits." The Prime Minister beamed and told me to tell him how much they appreciated his service and in fact all of our family's service. Wow...
The dinner was served after the speeches. It was excellent , colorful, and tasty. You could cut the bison with a fork. Unfortunately I didn't eat everything because there was so much to talk about. Topics:
farming in afghanistan
early education initiaitves
raising kids
building nations
helping military families
life on the farm
military wives
Let's Move initiative
It was like a dinner with great friends talking about big and little things. Mrs.Obama asked me specifically about the kids-where they were and why I think they all decided to serve. I told her about our family military legacy but how they have such different personalities that I never dreamed they would all make this choice. We always emphasized service and they had to work hard on the farm. Maybe it was to get out of baling hay. She told me how much she appreciates their sacrifices and that of all military service members and families. She said they have so much more to do for them. I told her how my husband, a Viet Nam vet with three Air Medals was treated when he came home. She said "never again. "
We also talked about parenting. When moms get together that is what we do. We had a lovely conversation and I told her I would love to have her over for coffee someday. :) At one point I expressed my amazement that will all the people in the room the Bryes were at this table. Everyone said without families like ours our country is not possible...wow again!
After dinner the President came over to check on me and see if I was having a good time. I was having a blast! At one point I glanced at my phone-it was already 11pm and the music had not started yet. so much for a 9:30 end time I was expecting.
The music was excellent. Mumford and Sons were very entertaining and John Legend was amazing. I will admit I did not know who he was but I have been out of the country a lot lately. The proverbial clock struck midnight and it was time to go back to reality. As we said goodbye I got a special hug.
My children are my greatest treasures. They have chosen to serve and I am so grateful they are appreciated. I will treasure the memories of this night always
George who?
As I made way to the table I encountered my husband who was looking a little flustered. For those of you who know him, he hardly ever is rattled. He had been taking the photos of the place cards and he said, "I am right across from the the Prime Minister's wife and the President, and you are at the other end near Mrs. Obama and George somebody." George somebody? The George who made me sob while watching the Descendents on my recent round the world airplane trip? The George who was voted the handsomest man in the world? That George?
And then I saw it-a cluster of beautiful women in flowing dresses they most likely did not buy at Dillards. They were hovering around George like a flock of birds and they were blocking my path to my seat. So I stood and listened as they gushed over him. Then an announcement was made to head to your table and they reluctantly left. I found myself face to face so I stuck out my hand and said, "Hi George, I am Elaine and this is my husband Courtney and I guess I will be sitting with you tonight."
In my mind I was thinking-this is nuts-me and George Clooney-but I held it together. He was charming. He asked about the kids and Ohio. I really liked how he gave us 100% attention. After a few minutes I dropped the bomb. " I know you are really active with the situation in Sudan-Courtney and I just returned from Bangladesh and before that we were working in Afghanistan." His face lit up and it was the start of multiple conversations about how to make a difference in the third world.
I made it to my seat and I was enveloped by a hug from behind. It was Mrs. Obama's Chief of Staff welcoming me. I told her I could not believe that we we there much less at the head table. I confessed that I was not sure anyone would notice my letter. "We noticed," she sad gleefully, and Mrs.Obama wanted to do something special to recognize your family's service. No kidding-I thought I might get a Christmas card next year, not a night like this.
I looked up-at the table behind us was the Secretary of State. "Oh my goodness-that's Hillary Clinton!," I exclaimed. "Would you like to meet her?," she asked. "Sure!" The next thing I knew I was shaking hands with the Secretary of State! She thanked me for the kids' service and then I told her how I had been in Kabul last year when she visited and also when Bin Laden had been killed. She grabbed both my hands and said, "It looks like your whole family are patriots. Thank you for your service to America. " Wow-somebody pinch me please. No never mind, let me keep dreaming.
And then I saw it-a cluster of beautiful women in flowing dresses they most likely did not buy at Dillards. They were hovering around George like a flock of birds and they were blocking my path to my seat. So I stood and listened as they gushed over him. Then an announcement was made to head to your table and they reluctantly left. I found myself face to face so I stuck out my hand and said, "Hi George, I am Elaine and this is my husband Courtney and I guess I will be sitting with you tonight."
In my mind I was thinking-this is nuts-me and George Clooney-but I held it together. He was charming. He asked about the kids and Ohio. I really liked how he gave us 100% attention. After a few minutes I dropped the bomb. " I know you are really active with the situation in Sudan-Courtney and I just returned from Bangladesh and before that we were working in Afghanistan." His face lit up and it was the start of multiple conversations about how to make a difference in the third world.
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| George and me solving the world's problems-this is before he was arrested |
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| The view from my seat during the Presidents speech-yes ladies that is the back of George's head |
I made it to my seat and I was enveloped by a hug from behind. It was Mrs. Obama's Chief of Staff welcoming me. I told her I could not believe that we we there much less at the head table. I confessed that I was not sure anyone would notice my letter. "We noticed," she sad gleefully, and Mrs.Obama wanted to do something special to recognize your family's service. No kidding-I thought I might get a Christmas card next year, not a night like this.
I looked up-at the table behind us was the Secretary of State. "Oh my goodness-that's Hillary Clinton!," I exclaimed. "Would you like to meet her?," she asked. "Sure!" The next thing I knew I was shaking hands with the Secretary of State! She thanked me for the kids' service and then I told her how I had been in Kabul last year when she visited and also when Bin Laden had been killed. She grabbed both my hands and said, "It looks like your whole family are patriots. Thank you for your service to America. " Wow-somebody pinch me please. No never mind, let me keep dreaming.
Dinner..at the White House?
Even as I write this title I am thinking, was this real? Have I lost my mind? But it is true-I have the pictures and hundreds of hits on Google to prove it. I am sitting on my porch on the farm, barefoot and all listening to the birds and watching the forsythia unfold before my eyes. It is a far cry from dinner last Wednesday night, believe you me!
You all know the rest of the story, but as we walked toward the receiving line we had no idea of the honor that lay before us. I kept waiting for someone to tell me how to behave but no one did. I took a deep breath and I handed my card to the announcer, and there I was standing in front of the President of the United States. So I did what came naturally. After he warmly greeted me I said, Thank you so much, Mr. President for inviting me, and these are for you!" What were they ? Pictures of my kids of course-not just any pictures, but one of all four in uniform, and another of him presenting our daughter with her USNA diploma. "Do you remember that sweet face? " I asked with a laugh. He got a big kick out of it. "Shall I sign them or keep them?, he asked. I stammered back, "I guess keep them," feeling like I had already gone too far. He turned to the Prime Minister and showed him the pics as he introduced me. (An aide did come up to me and ask how the pictures should be signed-so sweet)
So now I was face to face with a very tall, lovely Mrs. Obama. "Elaine, we are so happy you are here tonight, "she said warmly. I thanked her and said, " I just gave your husband some pictures." She replied," Don't worry about that-we will have plenty of time to chat-you will be sitting with us." And then I was enveloped in a huge hug.I was dumbstruck-and those of you who know me personally know that is hard to do . I was fanning my face and stammering while everyone around us was beaming. She turned to Mrs. Cameron and said, "Samantha, this is Elaine Brye, mom of four service members-she will be at our table tonight. "
I wanted to scream like my good friend Amanda "AAACKKKK!," but instead allowed myself to be led toward the tent still in shock. My husband behind me Ithink ( I was aware of no one else on the planet) also got a huge hug and kiss. Thank goodness for the aides and Senator and Mrs.Lugar-they got us onto the trolley that took us to the tent.
I continued to hyperventilate but knew there were two things I had to do. Go to the bathroom and call my daughter. " Katie !", I whispered breathlessly , "Keep watching!" She and baby Colton had been watching C-Span coverage on the internet. " We are sitting with the President and Mrs. Obama!" "WHAT!!!" she shouted back at me. " I am not kidding-gotta go." And with that I moved through the crowd to find where we were sitting. At this point I did not know who else would be there, I was just trying to comprehend it all-I still don't!
The theme was English Country Garden. The tent was back lit with pinks and purples-the exact shade of my dress to be specific:) The tables were covered with pink and purple flowers. The chairs were clear Lucite-almost like Cinderella's slipper. Quite appropriate since that is how I felt. Here is a peek at the place settings and tables.
But wait -there's more....in the next post
You all know the rest of the story, but as we walked toward the receiving line we had no idea of the honor that lay before us. I kept waiting for someone to tell me how to behave but no one did. I took a deep breath and I handed my card to the announcer, and there I was standing in front of the President of the United States. So I did what came naturally. After he warmly greeted me I said, Thank you so much, Mr. President for inviting me, and these are for you!" What were they ? Pictures of my kids of course-not just any pictures, but one of all four in uniform, and another of him presenting our daughter with her USNA diploma. "Do you remember that sweet face? " I asked with a laugh. He got a big kick out of it. "Shall I sign them or keep them?, he asked. I stammered back, "I guess keep them," feeling like I had already gone too far. He turned to the Prime Minister and showed him the pics as he introduced me. (An aide did come up to me and ask how the pictures should be signed-so sweet)
So now I was face to face with a very tall, lovely Mrs. Obama. "Elaine, we are so happy you are here tonight, "she said warmly. I thanked her and said, " I just gave your husband some pictures." She replied," Don't worry about that-we will have plenty of time to chat-you will be sitting with us." And then I was enveloped in a huge hug.I was dumbstruck-and those of you who know me personally know that is hard to do . I was fanning my face and stammering while everyone around us was beaming. She turned to Mrs. Cameron and said, "Samantha, this is Elaine Brye, mom of four service members-she will be at our table tonight. "
I wanted to scream like my good friend Amanda "AAACKKKK!," but instead allowed myself to be led toward the tent still in shock. My husband behind me Ithink ( I was aware of no one else on the planet) also got a huge hug and kiss. Thank goodness for the aides and Senator and Mrs.Lugar-they got us onto the trolley that took us to the tent.
I continued to hyperventilate but knew there were two things I had to do. Go to the bathroom and call my daughter. " Katie !", I whispered breathlessly , "Keep watching!" She and baby Colton had been watching C-Span coverage on the internet. " We are sitting with the President and Mrs. Obama!" "WHAT!!!" she shouted back at me. " I am not kidding-gotta go." And with that I moved through the crowd to find where we were sitting. At this point I did not know who else would be there, I was just trying to comprehend it all-I still don't!
The theme was English Country Garden. The tent was back lit with pinks and purples-the exact shade of my dress to be specific:) The tables were covered with pink and purple flowers. The chairs were clear Lucite-almost like Cinderella's slipper. Quite appropriate since that is how I felt. Here is a peek at the place settings and tables.
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| The Head Table-who knew Table 20 would be the one? |
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| It's for me-really! |
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| The flowers are a lot like Katie and Preston's wedding |
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Cinderella at the White House
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| My handsome husband waiting outside security |
Since we have been out of the country so much lately we wished we had a directory or that people were wearing nametags-let's just say we were the most ordinary folks there.
As the gate opened we began going through a series of security checks and lo and behold our names were on the list.
We were in!
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| Momma and Poppa Brye at the White House |
As we entered there were a number of military aides directing us. Of course I had to talk with them and show pictures of our military kids. As the evening went on we found at least 8 or 9 who knew our older sons-it was so much fun.
Cinderella at the White House-part one
You see I am a child from another era of war.My Army father and husband served in VietNam and they came home to disrespect and derision. I knew what it was like to have my father away and the sacrifices we made as a family. The thought that someone cared would have made all the difference. I had become aware of the initiatives to support military families led by the First Lady, and although I knew the White House mail bag would be overstuffed I felt led to write a thank you for caring message with a Christmas greeting. It was a mom to mom message from a proud military mom who appreciated that her children's service and sacrifice were valued.
And so I popped it into the mailbox and life went on. Another deployment finished and another one was scheduled and I tried to figure out when I could get my kids altogether again. It was as normal as our lives would be until I returned home from spending time with my husband in Bangladesh to find an invitation in the mail inviting me to a White House dinner in honor of the British Prime Minister. It must be a joke! But there was my name in elegant calligraphy. I called my husband in the middle of the night to tell him he needed to get home. Groggily he suggested I must be hallucinating from jet lag but came around to the idea that maybe I was still sane.
The next day I called in to RSVP and made copies of the invite just to remind myself it was real. Dress shopping, tuxedo shirts, hotel reservations.. The preparations continued until we found ourselves in Washington DC on Tuesday night. We only told our family and a few others with a need to know-we each secretly harbored the thought that it really was a mistake and we would be turned away. A nervous call to the Social Ofice confirmed that yes we really were on the list and yes my letter was read and "noticed"-no kidding!
As we prepared for the dinner there was a constant stream of text messages from our daughter. She was virtually helping me from afar-which lipstick, hair details. We accidentally locked the hotel safe and needed help and I was really wishing I had lost fifty pounds in a week. We realized we had been so hung up on getting ready and meeting these two powerful Heads of State and their wives that we did not think about anyone else. And now it hit me? Who else would be there? Who would we talk to? But of course tucked away in a corner of the tent we could just watch and absorb everything like two church mice. Feeling like we were headed to the prom, we waited for our cab, and waited, until they snagged a limo and we were off.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Mother Love
Motherlove-it conjures up sweet dreamy visions of pink and blue, cuddly and cozy. Mother love was anything but that for me-it transformed me into a warror diva determined to do anything to support and protect this next generation-our legacy. It was primal, raw,like that of a grizzly mom protecting her cubs. I was driven to do anything to nurture my cubs as well.
In my pregnancies I took ten time s better care of myself than I ever had before. As infants I read to them, baby proofed the house. As they grew and participated in almost every sport known to man I bought protective gear-chest protectors, face guards. We bought booster seats before they were required, guarded the internet, got them fingerprinted. I would leave no stone unturned to keep them safe and thriving.
And then it was time to leave the safe nest I had crafted. I thought I knew the depths of my love then as my heart ached at the thought of them leaving. But the enormity of it was revealed as son number on stood and took this oath on July 1, 2001 at the United States Naval Academy.
HAVING BEEN APPOINTED A MIDSHIPMAN IN THE UNITED STATES NAVY, DO YOU SOLEMNLY SWEAR (OR AFFIRM) THAT YOU WILL SUPPORT AND DEFEND THE CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES AGAINST ALL ENEMIES, FOREIGN AND DOMESTIC; THAT YOU WILL BEAR TRUE FAITH AND ALLEGIANCE TO THE SAME; THAT YOU TAKE THIS OBLIGATION FREELY, WITHOUT ANY MENTAL RESERVATION OR PURPOSE OF EVASION; AND THAT YOU WILL WELL AND FAITHFULLY DISCHARGE THE DUTIES OF THE OFFICE ON WHICH YOU ARE ABOUT TO ENTER, SO HELP YOU GOD.
My son promised go into harms’ way in service and duty to his country. The reality of his promise became larger than life two months later on September 11, 2001 when our nation was attacked.Greater love hath no man than to lay down his life for his country. Greater love has no mother than to watch her beloved child possibly have to do just that. In the years that followed his three siblings have each made the commitment to serve. As a military mom with a child in the Army, Air Force, Navy, and Marines, I never understood the depths of love until I have experienced my childrens’service in a tangible way.
How can this be? These children I so carefully nurtured now at the point of the sphere all around the globe. Love to me is having my heart skip a beat when I hear the evening news, or have not had email contact in days. It is a primal scream when a friend is injured or killed. It is the constant prayer and the realization that, there but for the grace of God go I, as another casualty is announced. And it is having my heart overflow when one comes home and is safe for an all too brief moment in time.
Tonight I will sleep a little easier because, for the first time in a year, all my children are home in the United States. Not under my wing, but still close to my heart... which is mighty full of mother love.
Monday, November 7, 2011
Military Moms and Dads
This month is Military Family Appreciation Month. It is good to recognize the sacrifice of the families who support their service members at home and on deployment. My daughters-in-laws and son in law have held down the fort during multiple deployments. And my grandchildren have also felt the sting of daddy being gone for months on the time. I remember that from my childhood as well. My dad, a career Army office , was gone a lot including multiple tours in Viet Nam. I remember watching scary news footage and rebelling when I had to leave my friends one more time
I want to focus today on some other members of the family-the parents, especially of the single military servicemen or women. It is a little daunting to get a big envelope in the mail with your kid's will and life insurance policy. We usually miss out on those family awareness and pre-deployment family briefings. If we are lucky our kids add our name to the Family Readiness Officer newsletters. but we are spread out all over the county with no other service family members around us to share the weight of worry. Many of us have no knowledge of the military and not many people around us who really understand what it is like. You get a lot of questions like,"How can you stand it-I could never handle my kids doing that", or " You must be afraid to watch the news." Usually I am just brave and breeze through it. But sometimes I want to just start sobbing and turn into a quivering mound as I squeak out," He is flying over Libya right now. " But since we are the less than one percent they would not get it and back up hurriedly to move away.
To be fair I wish I had a dollar for everyone who has thanked me for their service. But there are times when you do wish your kids lived down the street especially when you don't hear from them for weeks on end or they are in harm's way.
But we continue to do our part. We babysit their pets, store their stuff. We send care packages and pray that no one in uniform shows up on our doorsteps. And if, heaven forbid they are injured we do whatever we can to help them become whole again. We have them move in with us, drive them to medical care-maybe hours away, and do what it takes because they are our and our country's treasures.
Military moms and dads-one of the toughest jobs in the world, right behind spouses and military kids. I am very proud to be one. We need to stick together. Life on the homefront can get mighty tough somedays.
I want to focus today on some other members of the family-the parents, especially of the single military servicemen or women. It is a little daunting to get a big envelope in the mail with your kid's will and life insurance policy. We usually miss out on those family awareness and pre-deployment family briefings. If we are lucky our kids add our name to the Family Readiness Officer newsletters. but we are spread out all over the county with no other service family members around us to share the weight of worry. Many of us have no knowledge of the military and not many people around us who really understand what it is like. You get a lot of questions like,"How can you stand it-I could never handle my kids doing that", or " You must be afraid to watch the news." Usually I am just brave and breeze through it. But sometimes I want to just start sobbing and turn into a quivering mound as I squeak out," He is flying over Libya right now. " But since we are the less than one percent they would not get it and back up hurriedly to move away.
To be fair I wish I had a dollar for everyone who has thanked me for their service. But there are times when you do wish your kids lived down the street especially when you don't hear from them for weeks on end or they are in harm's way.
But we continue to do our part. We babysit their pets, store their stuff. We send care packages and pray that no one in uniform shows up on our doorsteps. And if, heaven forbid they are injured we do whatever we can to help them become whole again. We have them move in with us, drive them to medical care-maybe hours away, and do what it takes because they are our and our country's treasures.
Military moms and dads-one of the toughest jobs in the world, right behind spouses and military kids. I am very proud to be one. We need to stick together. Life on the homefront can get mighty tough somedays.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Deployment
Last year I had the unique opportunity to be a mom in a war zone. I spent the school year teaching in Kabul Afghanistan.My husband had been flying for an Afghan airline for two years, our daughter had been deployed there and I felt a call to serve in my own way. So I packed up by scarves and tunics and headed to Kabul.
My first days were punctuated by a massacre of aid workers, local disputes requiring school to be closed and then the threats to burn the Koran which raised the tension level a hundred fold. We lived by a code of colors which detailed out security levels and we hit red multiple times. But in the down times life was a series of days blending into each other-missing home and family and freedom to move about without restrictions.
So what exactly does this have to do with deployment? My active duty kids have completed three deployments so far-and one is currently deployed. They call my time in Kabul my deployment-I got a first hand view of what life is like.
It is boring. There are days of endless work, with little time off. And when there is time off there is no place to go so you tend to keep working. The folks I knew at the local base had Friday morning off -every other day they worked 12 to 14 hours a day.
Then the boredom vanishes with reminders that it is a war zone. Rocket attacks, possible shooters, suicide bombers-all combine to let you know you are not in Kansas anymore.You can rewrite the scenario about a lot of missions-whether on a Navy ship, or on an aircraft. It can be hours of boredom interrupted by moments of sheer terror -an old aviation saying that holds true in this scenario.
Of course those who are boots on the ground going house to house and interacting with villagers have much less boredom. But they share the second aspect of deployment-loneliness. It is a deep loneliness of absence of family and dearest friends-the people who know you and share your life and history. You may bond with your battle buddies in a profound way, but nothing replaces love from home, and family.
I saw packages arrive and be delivered by the chaplains, passed out hugs at chapel in my own mini USO attempts to disperse mom energy. I cried with losses and celebrated with people as they shipped home. It was a privilege to be there and get a better understanding of what my kids are facing as they perform their duties.
Two things I know about being deployed-you can never get enough mail and there is no place like home. Two things I know about being at home with kids deployed-the news is not your friend and you can never hear from them enough.
Deployments-a way of life for those who serve and those who love them...sigh.
My first days were punctuated by a massacre of aid workers, local disputes requiring school to be closed and then the threats to burn the Koran which raised the tension level a hundred fold. We lived by a code of colors which detailed out security levels and we hit red multiple times. But in the down times life was a series of days blending into each other-missing home and family and freedom to move about without restrictions.
So what exactly does this have to do with deployment? My active duty kids have completed three deployments so far-and one is currently deployed. They call my time in Kabul my deployment-I got a first hand view of what life is like.
It is boring. There are days of endless work, with little time off. And when there is time off there is no place to go so you tend to keep working. The folks I knew at the local base had Friday morning off -every other day they worked 12 to 14 hours a day.
Then the boredom vanishes with reminders that it is a war zone. Rocket attacks, possible shooters, suicide bombers-all combine to let you know you are not in Kansas anymore.You can rewrite the scenario about a lot of missions-whether on a Navy ship, or on an aircraft. It can be hours of boredom interrupted by moments of sheer terror -an old aviation saying that holds true in this scenario.
Of course those who are boots on the ground going house to house and interacting with villagers have much less boredom. But they share the second aspect of deployment-loneliness. It is a deep loneliness of absence of family and dearest friends-the people who know you and share your life and history. You may bond with your battle buddies in a profound way, but nothing replaces love from home, and family.
I saw packages arrive and be delivered by the chaplains, passed out hugs at chapel in my own mini USO attempts to disperse mom energy. I cried with losses and celebrated with people as they shipped home. It was a privilege to be there and get a better understanding of what my kids are facing as they perform their duties.
Two things I know about being deployed-you can never get enough mail and there is no place like home. Two things I know about being at home with kids deployed-the news is not your friend and you can never hear from them enough.
Deployments-a way of life for those who serve and those who love them...sigh.
Friday, September 30, 2011
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.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
It's the little things that count..
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| All four in one place at the same time-it's a miracle! |
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.......Saturday, September 10, 2011
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.....
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.....
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
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.
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 |
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Flag Day
A Flag Retirement ceremony in my little town-I have been asked to speak...
We are here today to honor the symbol of our country and retire a flag which has served its useful life as a symbol of freedom. What is so special about this flag that we should all come together to honor it in this manner? It is so much more that a colorful piece of cloth. For me it is a patch sewn on my childrens’ uniforms as they are serving harm’s way. It is a flag I took an oath to support and defend in my military service. It is a beacon of America on the 4th of July at the American Embassy in Afghanistan. It is a cloth draped over my father's coffin as he is laid to rest in Arlington National Cemetery. What does this flag mean to you?
The song for Freedom by Avalon captures the stories of many of our fellow Americans. Picture this with me…
Somewhere a trumpet sounds in the night
A soldier is standing there
It’s calling him out to the stars and the stripes
It’s calling him God knows where
He kisses the ones he loves goodbyeand leaves in the dead of night
For freedom he’ll heed the call
Leave all he knows
And for freedom he’ll stand and fight
And somewhere a man and wife can’t believe they’re waving their girl goodbye
For gone are the days of pigtails and curls and candlelight lullabies
If they had their way she’d stay young foreverand never be far from home
But freedom has drawn her heart to danger’s shore
And for freedom they’ll let her go
And somewhere beneath the stars and the sky
Our flag is still standing there
She bled and she brought one land under God
Her colors still lead us there
"I am your Flag. I was born on June 14, 1777. I have led your children into battle from Valley Forge to Vietnam. I have been there though the Civil War, Two World wars, at Gettysburg, Flanders, Korea, the Gulf War, and now in Iraq and Afghanistan. I was there with George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, Teddy Roosevelt, John F. Kennedy, and I am here with you now. I have flown through Peace and War. Whether being raised in glory at the Olympic games or lifted above the wreckage of the World Trade center, I am the hope of America.Through strife and Prosperity, and amidst it all, I have always been respected. My red stripes symbolize the blood spilled in defense of this glorious nation. My white stripes, the burning tears shed by Americans who lost their sons and daughters in battle. My blue field represents God’s Heaven under which I fly, and my stars, clustered together, unify the fifty states as one for God and Country. I am "Old Glory" and I proudly wave on high. Honor me, respect me, and defend me with your lives. Never let our enemies tear me down from my lofty position, lest I never return. Keep alight the fires of patriotism, strive earnestly for the spirit of democracy, and keep me always as a symbol of freedom, liberty, and peace in our country. When it comes the time when I am old and faded, do not let me fly in disrepair, rather Retire me from my duties only to replace me with a new flag so that I may continue to symbolize our country. “
Last week I wrote my daughter and told her about this ceremony. She emailed me back from Ghazni Afghanistan. "There she stands by Michael W. Smith will never be the same to me. They played it for the two hours it took at the memorial for Tiexxx and Tomxxxxx(sic soliders killed in Kabul suicide bombing) to come forward, salute, kneel at the boot/rifle/helmet/dog tag display, and then stand and salute again.
There she stands
There she flies
Clear blue sky
Reminds us with red
Of those that died
Washed in white
By the brave
In their strength
She stands
When evil calls itself a martyr
When all your hopes come crashing down
Someone will pull her from the rubble
There she stands
We've seen her flying torn and tattered.
We've seen her stand the test of time.
And through it all the fools have fallen.
There she stands
By the dawn's early light
And through the fight She stands.
Today we will retire this flag that has become worn beyond repair. We will separate the blue field of stars from the red and white stripes. The pieces of cloth that were once a flag will be burned to ashes. The flag of our Nation should always be a strong, vivid symbol of our land and fly brightly in our minds. Our flag is a symbol of our people, our freedom, and our strength. What does this flag mean to you? I hope you never look at it the same way again. May the spirit of this flag be born again in the new flag we will now fly and in our hearts as Americans.
We are here today to honor the symbol of our country and retire a flag which has served its useful life as a symbol of freedom. What is so special about this flag that we should all come together to honor it in this manner? It is so much more that a colorful piece of cloth. For me it is a patch sewn on my childrens’ uniforms as they are serving harm’s way. It is a flag I took an oath to support and defend in my military service. It is a beacon of America on the 4th of July at the American Embassy in Afghanistan. It is a cloth draped over my father's coffin as he is laid to rest in Arlington National Cemetery. What does this flag mean to you?
The song for Freedom by Avalon captures the stories of many of our fellow Americans. Picture this with me…
Somewhere a trumpet sounds in the night
A soldier is standing there
It’s calling him out to the stars and the stripes
It’s calling him God knows where
He kisses the ones he loves goodbyeand leaves in the dead of night
For freedom he’ll heed the call
Leave all he knows
And for freedom he’ll stand and fight
And somewhere a man and wife can’t believe they’re waving their girl goodbye
For gone are the days of pigtails and curls and candlelight lullabies
If they had their way she’d stay young foreverand never be far from home
But freedom has drawn her heart to danger’s shore
And for freedom they’ll let her go
And somewhere beneath the stars and the sky
Our flag is still standing there
She bled and she brought one land under God
Her colors still lead us there
"I am your Flag. I was born on June 14, 1777. I have led your children into battle from Valley Forge to Vietnam. I have been there though the Civil War, Two World wars, at Gettysburg, Flanders, Korea, the Gulf War, and now in Iraq and Afghanistan. I was there with George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, Teddy Roosevelt, John F. Kennedy, and I am here with you now. I have flown through Peace and War. Whether being raised in glory at the Olympic games or lifted above the wreckage of the World Trade center, I am the hope of America.Through strife and Prosperity, and amidst it all, I have always been respected. My red stripes symbolize the blood spilled in defense of this glorious nation. My white stripes, the burning tears shed by Americans who lost their sons and daughters in battle. My blue field represents God’s Heaven under which I fly, and my stars, clustered together, unify the fifty states as one for God and Country. I am "Old Glory" and I proudly wave on high. Honor me, respect me, and defend me with your lives. Never let our enemies tear me down from my lofty position, lest I never return. Keep alight the fires of patriotism, strive earnestly for the spirit of democracy, and keep me always as a symbol of freedom, liberty, and peace in our country. When it comes the time when I am old and faded, do not let me fly in disrepair, rather Retire me from my duties only to replace me with a new flag so that I may continue to symbolize our country. “
Last week I wrote my daughter and told her about this ceremony. She emailed me back from Ghazni Afghanistan. "There she stands by Michael W. Smith will never be the same to me. They played it for the two hours it took at the memorial for Tiexxx and Tomxxxxx(sic soliders killed in Kabul suicide bombing) to come forward, salute, kneel at the boot/rifle/helmet/dog tag display, and then stand and salute again.
There she stands
There she flies
Clear blue sky
Reminds us with red
Of those that died
Washed in white
By the brave
In their strength
She stands
When evil calls itself a martyr
When all your hopes come crashing down
Someone will pull her from the rubble
There she stands
We've seen her flying torn and tattered.
We've seen her stand the test of time.
And through it all the fools have fallen.
There she stands
By the dawn's early light
And through the fight She stands.
Today we will retire this flag that has become worn beyond repair. We will separate the blue field of stars from the red and white stripes. The pieces of cloth that were once a flag will be burned to ashes. The flag of our Nation should always be a strong, vivid symbol of our land and fly brightly in our minds. Our flag is a symbol of our people, our freedom, and our strength. What does this flag mean to you? I hope you never look at it the same way again. May the spirit of this flag be born again in the new flag we will now fly and in our hearts as Americans.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Memorial Day
In our little village there is a ceremony at the park every weekend before Memorial Day. The kids gather with their decorated bikes and follow the high school band to the park. There is a speaker and a high school student recites the Gettysburg Address-another recites " In Flanders Field the poppies blow beneath the crosses row on row..."
They asked me to speak this year. I wanted the kids to hear-that this is not just about very old people from long ago and far away. Here is my message:
The Winona Memorial Day Celebration-what sweet memories this day holds for me. Little toddlers dressed in red white and blue excitedly waiting for the band to play. A few years later they are solemn Cub Scouts raising the flag And during the tribute to the armed services when my husband and I stepped forward to the strains of “Off we go in to the wild blue yonder” they would beam with pride.
Fast forward twenty years –they are all grownup. Now I am a mom of four service members, one in each branch-a 4 Star Blue star mom. Family gatherings become a mix of inter service rivalry and bantering. But they share one thing in common-a value of service toward country. Duty Honor Commitment Courage-they have made a personal sacrifice for us all.
As a mom I am filled with pride as I watch them go forth into the world. They have amazed me with their strength and dedication. They credit their roots on the farm here in Winona with much of the toughness they needed to succeed elsewhere. The lessons of endurance, persistence, and cooperation that comes from a day of baling hay are priceless. Stacking bales in the top of the mow prepare you for the dusts of Afghanistan. Racing a thunderstorm to get the last wagon in before the storm hits is pretty similar to the stress of a carrier landing. And feeding the animals before you feed yourself is good preparation to taking care of men and women in your command. If you can catch a calf you can do an obstacle course. And if you shoot groundhogs, that experience might helpful when you have to travel with a weapon in your thigh holster.
But the reality is they don't get back home much anymore. With hot spots and bad guys all over the world they are pretty busy and Winona is a little off the beaten path. As I write this son #1 is finishing up his aerial combat training as a Marine F/18 pilot. During his past three years of training there have been multiple training accidents. He will soon join his squadron and be deployed in September. Son #2 is a P3 naval flight officer flying sub hunting missions and supporting Haiti relief efforts. He and his wife are expecting the first child in November and he will most likely deploy again when the baby is five months old. Son #3 is working through his helicopter ratings in Army ROTC and will attend Air Assault School this summer where he will rappel out of helicopters. This is the same child I would not let use the big slide here in the park because it was too high. And my daughter, who loved to swing and hang upside down here is currently deployed in Afghanistan. Instead of her majorette uniform she wears a flak jacket –instead of gold ribbons in her hair she wears a Kevlar helmet.
They make personal sacrifices every day to serve-and so do we parents. They do not live down the road, they cannot come home whenever they want, and now they are in harm’s way. As a mom I don't like to think about that too much- there are times when it is better just to turn off the news or not read the newspaper. There are times when a chill just washes over you as you think about what might happen-it is my worst nightmare.
When we put flowers on the memorial stones and remember I think about those mothers and father whose worst nightmares came true. And in the midst of deepest loss the greatest comfort is to know that your loved one lives mattered and are worth remembering.
So when we remember all those that have served and those who gave the greatest gift-remember that some of them were once little kids who ran among the fields of Winona. They grew up and decided to make a commitment to serve their country. It meant leaving home and those they loved knowing they just might not make it back. That is a lot to ask and to give –and they deserve our utmost respect and admiration
It’s not easy being a mom. We do the best we can to raise them right to keep them safe. That doesn't change whether they are 3 or 23. Being a military mom is even harder. We have to let go and share them with the country and even the world while we wait at home for an email or phone call to know that for the moment they are ok.
I have a sign at the end of my driveway that reads “A piece of my heart in Afghanistan”. I could add over the skies of the world. They are my most precious treasures – I appreciate that you are here today to honor them and all those who serve. And I look forward to a day when they can all be home for the Memorial Day celebration-maybe with their own children trying to climb the big slide.
God Bless our troops and all who hold them dear.
Momma B
They asked me to speak this year. I wanted the kids to hear-that this is not just about very old people from long ago and far away. Here is my message:
The Winona Memorial Day Celebration-what sweet memories this day holds for me. Little toddlers dressed in red white and blue excitedly waiting for the band to play. A few years later they are solemn Cub Scouts raising the flag And during the tribute to the armed services when my husband and I stepped forward to the strains of “Off we go in to the wild blue yonder” they would beam with pride.
Fast forward twenty years –they are all grownup. Now I am a mom of four service members, one in each branch-a 4 Star Blue star mom. Family gatherings become a mix of inter service rivalry and bantering. But they share one thing in common-a value of service toward country. Duty Honor Commitment Courage-they have made a personal sacrifice for us all.
As a mom I am filled with pride as I watch them go forth into the world. They have amazed me with their strength and dedication. They credit their roots on the farm here in Winona with much of the toughness they needed to succeed elsewhere. The lessons of endurance, persistence, and cooperation that comes from a day of baling hay are priceless. Stacking bales in the top of the mow prepare you for the dusts of Afghanistan. Racing a thunderstorm to get the last wagon in before the storm hits is pretty similar to the stress of a carrier landing. And feeding the animals before you feed yourself is good preparation to taking care of men and women in your command. If you can catch a calf you can do an obstacle course. And if you shoot groundhogs, that experience might helpful when you have to travel with a weapon in your thigh holster.
But the reality is they don't get back home much anymore. With hot spots and bad guys all over the world they are pretty busy and Winona is a little off the beaten path. As I write this son #1 is finishing up his aerial combat training as a Marine F/18 pilot. During his past three years of training there have been multiple training accidents. He will soon join his squadron and be deployed in September. Son #2 is a P3 naval flight officer flying sub hunting missions and supporting Haiti relief efforts. He and his wife are expecting the first child in November and he will most likely deploy again when the baby is five months old. Son #3 is working through his helicopter ratings in Army ROTC and will attend Air Assault School this summer where he will rappel out of helicopters. This is the same child I would not let use the big slide here in the park because it was too high. And my daughter, who loved to swing and hang upside down here is currently deployed in Afghanistan. Instead of her majorette uniform she wears a flak jacket –instead of gold ribbons in her hair she wears a Kevlar helmet.
They make personal sacrifices every day to serve-and so do we parents. They do not live down the road, they cannot come home whenever they want, and now they are in harm’s way. As a mom I don't like to think about that too much- there are times when it is better just to turn off the news or not read the newspaper. There are times when a chill just washes over you as you think about what might happen-it is my worst nightmare.
When we put flowers on the memorial stones and remember I think about those mothers and father whose worst nightmares came true. And in the midst of deepest loss the greatest comfort is to know that your loved one lives mattered and are worth remembering.
So when we remember all those that have served and those who gave the greatest gift-remember that some of them were once little kids who ran among the fields of Winona. They grew up and decided to make a commitment to serve their country. It meant leaving home and those they loved knowing they just might not make it back. That is a lot to ask and to give –and they deserve our utmost respect and admiration
It’s not easy being a mom. We do the best we can to raise them right to keep them safe. That doesn't change whether they are 3 or 23. Being a military mom is even harder. We have to let go and share them with the country and even the world while we wait at home for an email or phone call to know that for the moment they are ok.
I have a sign at the end of my driveway that reads “A piece of my heart in Afghanistan”. I could add over the skies of the world. They are my most precious treasures – I appreciate that you are here today to honor them and all those who serve. And I look forward to a day when they can all be home for the Memorial Day celebration-maybe with their own children trying to climb the big slide.
God Bless our troops and all who hold them dear.
Momma B
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Mom
I am a mom-soccer mom, track mom, football mom , ballet mom, no you can’t watch TV until you finish your homework is done mom, do the right thing mom , Army mom, Navy mom, Air Force mom, Marine mom . I am even a helicopter mom since one of my sons is training in helicopters!
I have been protecting my brood since before they were born. As a mama bird tends her nest, I fluttered about finding all the right ingredients to make strong little birds. My other job as mom was developing their wings in all kinds of ways. I wanted them to soar, fly in the face of adversity, and become competent birds who could navigate the big world around them.
And now–they are off and out of the nest. Most of the time, I am filled with pride and joy as I watch them rise to their potential. But there are days when I wish they were safe in the nest again. When I contemplate a sweet baby head of blonde curls now cradled in Kevlar my mother’s heart aches. Gone are the days when I can keep them safe-it is in God’s Hands. And so I look His words and leave them to His protection.
I am reminded of a favorite song based on His word… On Eagles Wings by Michael Joncas. Here is the refrain :
And He will lift you up on eagle's wings,
Bear you on the breath of dawn,
Make you to shine like the sun,
And Hold you in the palm of his Hand.
I am glad there is room for me in His Hand as well.
I have been protecting my brood since before they were born. As a mama bird tends her nest, I fluttered about finding all the right ingredients to make strong little birds. My other job as mom was developing their wings in all kinds of ways. I wanted them to soar, fly in the face of adversity, and become competent birds who could navigate the big world around them.
And now–they are off and out of the nest. Most of the time, I am filled with pride and joy as I watch them rise to their potential. But there are days when I wish they were safe in the nest again. When I contemplate a sweet baby head of blonde curls now cradled in Kevlar my mother’s heart aches. Gone are the days when I can keep them safe-it is in God’s Hands. And so I look His words and leave them to His protection.
I am reminded of a favorite song based on His word… On Eagles Wings by Michael Joncas. Here is the refrain :
And He will lift you up on eagle's wings,
Bear you on the breath of dawn,
Make you to shine like the sun,
And Hold you in the palm of his Hand.
I am glad there is room for me in His Hand as well.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
A new rating
I have been behind on my blog-nothing like a wedding in the family to take precedence. The AF 2Lt is now a Mrs.-and her husband is also a 2Lt in the Air Force just getting ready to start flight school. As I wrote in my Christmas card-sleep in peace-my family is on duty all over the world.
My husband was able to come home for the wedding and returned to Dubai /Kabul several weeks ago.
It is hard to keep up with him and his everchanging schedule. So when news of the attacks in Kabul hit the TV the other day the hair on the back off my neck stood up. I recognized that mall
and hoped he was anywhere but there. Turns out all was well-but members of his crew who are Afghani live right next to the fighting. They are so tired of war.
Right now my son who was deployed is happily back at home and everyone else is in training mode. I will treasure these moments of calm-I know that soon they will be interrupted by a call to harm's way. And in the meantime we will celebrate a new marriage, and a new helicopter rating; a permanent duty station in California plus no Kabul overnights. Life is good.
My husband was able to come home for the wedding and returned to Dubai /Kabul several weeks ago.
It is hard to keep up with him and his everchanging schedule. So when news of the attacks in Kabul hit the TV the other day the hair on the back off my neck stood up. I recognized that mall
and hoped he was anywhere but there. Turns out all was well-but members of his crew who are Afghani live right next to the fighting. They are so tired of war.
Right now my son who was deployed is happily back at home and everyone else is in training mode. I will treasure these moments of calm-I know that soon they will be interrupted by a call to harm's way. And in the meantime we will celebrate a new marriage, and a new helicopter rating; a permanent duty station in California plus no Kabul overnights. Life is good.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
A happy ending
Last week we were dealing with our own mini crisis-my daughters engagement ring was taken from her visiting officers quarters where she is in training. She felt secure there and had a hard lesson in reality just as others have had in summer training and even on the Yard. After reporting it and visiting pawn shops around the base she became resigned to her loss-until it magically reappeared today. It is a happy ending that I wish could be multiplied for many others. The lesson learned-vigilance and using precautions-will stand her in good stead in the future no matter where she is.
I think we all have a certain sense of security when it comes to being on a domestic military base-at least we did until the events at FT Hood unfolded. I am sure many of you have had a hard time getting your minds around those events. What most of you don't know is one of our own USNA moms worked right down the hall from the alleged assailant. I was worried sick. I finally did hear from her a few days ago-and all is well although she is running ragged taking care of her patients. It is funny where the USNA connections lead. But more importantly what seemed like a big loss became a drop in the bucket compared to so much more. The true diamonds are the men and women who paid the ultimate price.
I think we all have a certain sense of security when it comes to being on a domestic military base-at least we did until the events at FT Hood unfolded. I am sure many of you have had a hard time getting your minds around those events. What most of you don't know is one of our own USNA moms worked right down the hall from the alleged assailant. I was worried sick. I finally did hear from her a few days ago-and all is well although she is running ragged taking care of her patients. It is funny where the USNA connections lead. But more importantly what seemed like a big loss became a drop in the bucket compared to so much more. The true diamonds are the men and women who paid the ultimate price.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
A different view of Kabul
Enclosed is a description of one of my husband's layover experiences in Kabul-there is nothing like flying into Kabul Afghanistan to give you a different perspective on life there. It is a far cry from his USAirways layovers ...
It was a quiet week in my home town, Kabul, Afghanistan...the fall colors were brilliant, glowing in the bright morning sun with the snowcapped peaks of the Hindu Kush as a back drop. There was a slight chill in the fresh morning air but the brilliant Afghan sun produced a comfortable environment for the Afghan trekking adventure.The golf pro from the Kabul Golf Course would be our guide to the immobilized Soviet tank position located on the summit of a mountainpeak overlooking the golf course and Kabul city. He asked us what pace he should maintain and we told him we would keep up. The 50 year old former prisoner of war gave us a work out and soon the sweaters were shed and it gave us an excuse to take a short break. Enroute we enjoyed climbing on the Soviet tank bunker's which were additional reminders of the "occupation" three decades ago.Our first Afghan mountain summit was soon realized with the bonus of an awesome vista from our perch on a disabled Soviet tank. Garreth and I took turns photographing each other as "Senior Tank Commander's" while a vivid oral description of that era came to life by our local Afghanwitness. It was much like visiting Gettysburg, except we werewitnessinga life size diorama on location with a play by play of the Mujahedinand the Soviet's exercising their independent combat strategy. We all too soon had to depart from our "Walter Mitty" experience, a bit reluctantly.Visual aids certainly make the geography and history lessons more interesting and memorable while a written documentary solidifies and confirms the experience. It was truly a day to remember and we were non-to-less for the wear. And that's the way it was in Kabul where thewomen wear burkas, the men carry "AK-47"s and the children are all too soon adults.
Monday, October 26, 2009
It's a small world
It’s a small world when you are connected to the military. Just yesterday I got a surprise phone call from my Navy son who is currently deployed, He told a story about flying and needing to contact a ship. The responding officer was one of his USNA class mates. The world gets even smaller in the Marine Corps-especially in Marine aviation. So when I heard the news this morning that two Marine helicopters collided and the crew was lost the lump jumped into my throat. Even though my Marine is safe and sound in San Diego those pilots and their families are on my heart.
I used to get the Marine Corps Times-I stopped when I began traveling so much this past summer. The casualty lists are posted each week along with the photos of the nation’s newest heroes. I would think about their families and how proud they were to carry those pictures of their sons and daughters . Even though we never met, we share a connection and a kinship that comes with having a child volunteer to serve in harm’s way.
So tonight I am praying for those who will soon learn that they have lost someone very precious to them. We share the pride and the pain-it is a small world for those of us who love someone in the military.
I used to get the Marine Corps Times-I stopped when I began traveling so much this past summer. The casualty lists are posted each week along with the photos of the nation’s newest heroes. I would think about their families and how proud they were to carry those pictures of their sons and daughters . Even though we never met, we share a connection and a kinship that comes with having a child volunteer to serve in harm’s way.
So tonight I am praying for those who will soon learn that they have lost someone very precious to them. We share the pride and the pain-it is a small world for those of us who love someone in the military.
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