I was checking my email this afternoon and came across an article about the Associated Press releasing the picture of an Marine severely injured by a RPG attack in Afghanistan last month. The young Lance Corporal died later. Last week, after the funeral, a number of newspapers chose to print the photo showing the downed Marine as his comrades attempted to save his life. The picture was released despite the protests of the Marine's family. The Secretary of Defense has since blasted the AP for their actions, demanding the photo be pulled.
I had to calm down a bit before I decided to write about it. I am a strong proponent of freedom of the press. I am also the daughter of a fallen Marine. I can easily imagine the pain this Marine's family feels knowing that picture, the last of their son, is out there. The last picture I have of my father is him receiving his Purple Heart on board the USS Repose, a Naval Hospital Ship. That picture is a snapshot of a nineteen year old boy, it is bittersweet. What is hidden from view in the picture is the fact Daddy was missing both legs, his left arm and his left eye. I know these injuries were disguised out of respect for the family members to whom the photo would be sent. Those of us who have lost a loved one in service of this country do not need to see what happened to them with our eyes. That loss is forever engraved onto our hearts, we carry this scar with us everywhere we go.
The AP argues they are showing a piece of the country's history. I am a historian as well. I can teach about history without showing the dying moments of a 21 year old. There are other ways to teach, to show clearly the horrors of war, without blatantly disregarding the wishes and feelings of the families of the fallen. I hope the decision makers at the AP rethink their stance on this issue. In the meantime, this Marine's daughter will light a candle for the family. I know he is now part of those few and proud guarding Heaven's streets. He's in good company.
Friday, September 4, 2009
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Another World Heard From...
I hadn't planned on blogging today. I've been feeling off for a few days now. Very frustrated, confused, sad and a whole lot of other whatnot to boot. Best I've been able to come up with is to keep busy, preferably without alot of people around. I'm craving peace and quiet like it's the air I breathe.
I love my friends, family and my kiddos. Really. It just I have days where having a job counting birds, or fish or something on an unpopulated island off of Maine, with no internet, or phone, sounds like my idea of heaven. By noon, today became one of those days. Which is why I probably had a massive stress headache by the time I got home. I had enough energy to crawl into my hermit cell - though it does seem more like a dark cave...just need a couple of bats-and crash for a couple of hours.
All I wanted was some sleep to make my head stop hurting. I did get that...along with a bunch of dreams. Like most of the dreams I've had all summer I don't remember most of them...other than they are generally disturbing (for example, the vampires...thank you Kristi...but that is a whole other blog). I do remember part of one though because Daddy came for a visit.
Not particularly surprising, it is close to my birthday. And some of the little signs have been around...a Vietnam book repeatedly falling off the shelf, my Goldstar pin reappearing after being gone for two years, stuff like that. But I haven't had dreams with Daddy in them in months.
Okay I thought, it's a belated birthday visit, plus I'm worried about Dad and alot of other stuff in my life. No big deal. Yeah right. Daddy and I sat on the rocks along the seashore and chatted. I told him about things that had been going on, things I haven't been able to talk to anyone else about for one reason or another. These dream talks are almost as good as the real thing, but they also make me miss him. Sometimes a girl just needs her Daddy. Even when he tells her what she doesn't want to hear. In my case, to stop overthinking, to stop hesitating and to go more with my heart. Great. Bless him, Daddy always jumped before he looked and he always went with his heart, for better or for worse. Sadly, these are not traits that come easily to me. I guess I'm going to have to work on them... sigh.
I love my friends, family and my kiddos. Really. It just I have days where having a job counting birds, or fish or something on an unpopulated island off of Maine, with no internet, or phone, sounds like my idea of heaven. By noon, today became one of those days. Which is why I probably had a massive stress headache by the time I got home. I had enough energy to crawl into my hermit cell - though it does seem more like a dark cave...just need a couple of bats-and crash for a couple of hours.
All I wanted was some sleep to make my head stop hurting. I did get that...along with a bunch of dreams. Like most of the dreams I've had all summer I don't remember most of them...other than they are generally disturbing (for example, the vampires...thank you Kristi...but that is a whole other blog). I do remember part of one though because Daddy came for a visit.
Not particularly surprising, it is close to my birthday. And some of the little signs have been around...a Vietnam book repeatedly falling off the shelf, my Goldstar pin reappearing after being gone for two years, stuff like that. But I haven't had dreams with Daddy in them in months.
Okay I thought, it's a belated birthday visit, plus I'm worried about Dad and alot of other stuff in my life. No big deal. Yeah right. Daddy and I sat on the rocks along the seashore and chatted. I told him about things that had been going on, things I haven't been able to talk to anyone else about for one reason or another. These dream talks are almost as good as the real thing, but they also make me miss him. Sometimes a girl just needs her Daddy. Even when he tells her what she doesn't want to hear. In my case, to stop overthinking, to stop hesitating and to go more with my heart. Great. Bless him, Daddy always jumped before he looked and he always went with his heart, for better or for worse. Sadly, these are not traits that come easily to me. I guess I'm going to have to work on them... sigh.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Waiting
Anyone who knows me well, knows patience is not one of my stronger virtues. Since I tend to give the Tazmanian Devil as run for his money, having to go slow and wait for things to come to me isn't something with which I have much practice. In fact, I'll choose just about any other virtue to work on instead. I'm just not your average, take it easy kind of gal, well in any respect actually.
I guess all those times I've put off cultivating patience has finally caught up to me. It seems much of what I'm doing lately is waiting... waiting to hear about a job, waiting for my Master's Degree to show up, so on and so forth. I wish I could say I was embracing this lesson in patience gracefully. It would seem to be the perfect time to practice being mindful, focusing on the moment. Which I can do, if I have something else going to occupy my hands... making bread, washing dishes, pretty much anything. Give me a moment when my hands are idle though and I'm right back to obsessing.
One of the most difficult things I'm obsessing about right now is waiting to see what is happening with my Dad's health. Over a month ago he was admitted to the hospital with a pneumothorax of the left lung. Three weeks of inpatient treatment and now another of the same treatment at home haven't healed the lung. We have all been having to wait...to see if the lung will heal, for the next series of tests, to see if another treatment will have to be tried despite the risks, to see if Dad can even gather up the energy to walk across the house today when he couldn't yesterday.
It is always difficult to be patient when there is a particular outcome in mind. I think it is more difficult when the outcome is unclear. You are having to wait, but you don't know what it is you are waiting for. Right now, we all hope for good news...that the lung has healed and Dad can return to his regular activities as his strength returns. Yet, the reality is, the longer this goes on, the greater the risk to Dad's overall health as well as the dampening of his spirits. And all any of us can do is wait...and play the cards Fate deals us.
I guess all those times I've put off cultivating patience has finally caught up to me. It seems much of what I'm doing lately is waiting... waiting to hear about a job, waiting for my Master's Degree to show up, so on and so forth. I wish I could say I was embracing this lesson in patience gracefully. It would seem to be the perfect time to practice being mindful, focusing on the moment. Which I can do, if I have something else going to occupy my hands... making bread, washing dishes, pretty much anything. Give me a moment when my hands are idle though and I'm right back to obsessing.
One of the most difficult things I'm obsessing about right now is waiting to see what is happening with my Dad's health. Over a month ago he was admitted to the hospital with a pneumothorax of the left lung. Three weeks of inpatient treatment and now another of the same treatment at home haven't healed the lung. We have all been having to wait...to see if the lung will heal, for the next series of tests, to see if another treatment will have to be tried despite the risks, to see if Dad can even gather up the energy to walk across the house today when he couldn't yesterday.
It is always difficult to be patient when there is a particular outcome in mind. I think it is more difficult when the outcome is unclear. You are having to wait, but you don't know what it is you are waiting for. Right now, we all hope for good news...that the lung has healed and Dad can return to his regular activities as his strength returns. Yet, the reality is, the longer this goes on, the greater the risk to Dad's overall health as well as the dampening of his spirits. And all any of us can do is wait...and play the cards Fate deals us.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
The Past Year...
Some of you know what I've been up to, at least in part, for the past year. There have been some great joys, including the birth of the youngest goddaughter, Ryanne Nichole in November,graduating with my Master's Degree in Environmental Science and watching more of "my kids" graduate high school and move on with their lives. There have been some sorrows, including my Dad's declining health and the tragic loss of my brother Nate's partner, among others.
For most of the past year, I was battling my demons again. The anxiety was bad enough. When it combined with the depression this time around, it hit me in a new and disturbing way. I have always relied upon my intellect, probably too much. Academic life, school, books...these have always been my safety zone. I know what the rules are, expectations are clearly laid out and there are few if any nasty surprises to disrupt that area of calm in my life. At least until the last year, when suddenly I found myself unable to rely on my intellect. My ability to skim material and pound out a decent paper at the last minute was gone. Reading became a huge difficulty. Writing papers became almost impossible at times. And all of this in the middle of my graduate studies. My ability to communicate went out a window. I couldn't follow my own train of thought some days, let alone anyone else. I managed to get through to graduate. At the time, I did enough to get through my classes to get to May 4th - Graduation. I did not do it gracefully, or with much confidence at some points that I would make it at all.
I did what I normally do when the demons appear. Mainly I go to ground and I wait for it to pass. I know how difficult it is for those around me to watch it happen. I am so blessed to have people who love me enough to be there through it. There are other people in my life who have no idea what goes on with me. They do not have enough of a history to have seen this before. They have no way to know it will pass eventually. I realized it is because I haven't told them, much, if any of it because I haven't wanted to accept this is part of my life.
I have struggled with it for years. I kept hoping each time will be the last . Yet the more I struggled to deny its hold, the worse each round has become. I have had to make peace with this being out of my control (Yes this is me admitting there is something I cannot control). I cannot say I will not be in that dark place again. Instead I acknowledge it, find what blessings are in it and begin to heal again.
One of the blessings so far...I can no longer rely completely on my "rational" mind. Doing so may have protected me at one point in my life, but it has cost me much in my current life. Instead, I'm learning to listen to other parts of myself. It's not easy, and so far the result has been a fair amount of heartache. But I'll take that over the numbing darkness any day.
For most of the past year, I was battling my demons again. The anxiety was bad enough. When it combined with the depression this time around, it hit me in a new and disturbing way. I have always relied upon my intellect, probably too much. Academic life, school, books...these have always been my safety zone. I know what the rules are, expectations are clearly laid out and there are few if any nasty surprises to disrupt that area of calm in my life. At least until the last year, when suddenly I found myself unable to rely on my intellect. My ability to skim material and pound out a decent paper at the last minute was gone. Reading became a huge difficulty. Writing papers became almost impossible at times. And all of this in the middle of my graduate studies. My ability to communicate went out a window. I couldn't follow my own train of thought some days, let alone anyone else. I managed to get through to graduate. At the time, I did enough to get through my classes to get to May 4th - Graduation. I did not do it gracefully, or with much confidence at some points that I would make it at all.
I did what I normally do when the demons appear. Mainly I go to ground and I wait for it to pass. I know how difficult it is for those around me to watch it happen. I am so blessed to have people who love me enough to be there through it. There are other people in my life who have no idea what goes on with me. They do not have enough of a history to have seen this before. They have no way to know it will pass eventually. I realized it is because I haven't told them, much, if any of it because I haven't wanted to accept this is part of my life.
I have struggled with it for years. I kept hoping each time will be the last . Yet the more I struggled to deny its hold, the worse each round has become. I have had to make peace with this being out of my control (Yes this is me admitting there is something I cannot control). I cannot say I will not be in that dark place again. Instead I acknowledge it, find what blessings are in it and begin to heal again.
One of the blessings so far...I can no longer rely completely on my "rational" mind. Doing so may have protected me at one point in my life, but it has cost me much in my current life. Instead, I'm learning to listen to other parts of myself. It's not easy, and so far the result has been a fair amount of heartache. But I'll take that over the numbing darkness any day.
Friday, August 28, 2009
The Infamous Tire Iron Incident
So what was the infamous tire iron incident you ask? A few of you have already heard the story, either directly from me or from Nia. For the rest of you, here is how the story goes...
Last November I had the opportunity to present at the Plus Time NH Afterschool Conference. Unfortunately, it was the same Saturday as the Food Sovereignty class I was taking, along with my buddy, cohort, instigator....the list really is endless (You didn't think you'd get to be sweet & innocent in all this, did you?). With some snarling up of time, travel and whatnot, I was able to schedule both events into my day with just enough time to spare. Everything was perfectly planned and prepared for ahead of time. Looking back, I should have been suspicious.
Nia stayed at our house the night before. The plan was to go to the conference, present and then book it (no of course I wouldn't speed)from Manchester to Keene to get to class. No problem. As we walked out of the house, I noticed one of my tires was a little flat. No problem, I just stopped and filled it up and we were off to Manchester. (Nia, stop giggling, I can hear you from here). The conference went well, my presentation was well received and we left with plenty of time to get to Keene with a stop at Panera's to get food and coffee. (Mmmm, mocha lattes....sorry caffeine tangent).
It was a cloudy day, the sky was just waiting to open up. No problem, we'd be in class by then. Uh-huh. Then, traveling along Route 9, about ten minutes from Keene, my car started to handle funny. Uh-oh I thought....just get me to Keene. Then I started to hear the thump...thump...thump that along with the smell of burning rubber alerted me to the fact I had a flat. Quickly pulling far over onto the shoulder...trust me you don't want to be anywhere near the traffic on that road...I stopped, got out and looked.
I couldn't just have a simple flat...no I had to have a shredded tire. Okay, I can change a tire no problem... While I was digging everything out of the back of my car, an ordeal in and of itself, Nia was trying to call a classmate to let them know we'd be a bit late. That was when it started to rain. So okay, sometimes the Universe is not particularly nice to me, but it usually works out fine. So I'm keeping my swearing to a minimum....okay, I was keeping the volume to a minimum, and I hadn't gotten to the really creative ones yet. Nia meanwhile is happily chatting away on the phone, just as a NH State trooper pulls up to help. Needless to say we were both very happy.
Granted I can change a tire, I just don't like to do it. If the damsel in distress mode gets me out of it, so much the better. The very nice trooper was happy to help. It was a good thing he did stop. The tire iron that came with Fith (aka the KIA) sucks...as does the jack. Also, the tire rim did not want to come off, at least not until I beat on it a bit. Finally we got the bad tire off and replaced with the doughnut which would get me to Keene and then home. Of course, this is all just background for the really funny part (I say funny as in ironic, Nia says funny as in HA, HA, I have to tell everyone in the cohort this!)
The Trooper's tire iron was one of those nice 4 way versions. They spin very nicely to tighten up the lug nuts. Which he was doing as he had me start lowering the jack. Unfortunately, that required my head being in the vicinity of the tire iron. Everything was coming along nicely when
*whack*. The tire iron hit me right in the forehead.
It did stun me for a second...until I could hear Nia LAUGHING. And no it did not break the tire iron as was suggested by one of my friends. The poor Trooper though. He was so embarrassed and was apologizing profusely, over Nia's LAUGHING. assured him that there were many people who would have paid to have seen it happen. Nia agreed, laughing even more (wait, why do I like you again...?). In the process, I also broke my last watch...it's that linear time thing. He hurriedly packed up and sent us on our way to class, calling out our thanks as we went.
Of course, those of you who have known me for a long time know that 1) I am stubborn, sometimes to the point of stupidity when the Universe is trying to get a message to me and 2) I am hardheaded in all sense of the word...Irish and Italian...you expect what else? The standard joke is it requires a 4x4 to the head repeatedly to get me to pay attention and follow the guidance I'm given. Apparently the 4x4 has been retired...or broken...I swear it was not intentional. The guardian angel apparently was forced to resort to tire irons.
Needless to say the story was told throughout Antioch that week. Especially since my head didn't actually start to hurt until about an hour later. Further proof of my thick head...did I mention the Irish part? So that is the story. Of course now I cannot help but wonder what will happen if I break a tire iron?
Last November I had the opportunity to present at the Plus Time NH Afterschool Conference. Unfortunately, it was the same Saturday as the Food Sovereignty class I was taking, along with my buddy, cohort, instigator....the list really is endless (You didn't think you'd get to be sweet & innocent in all this, did you?). With some snarling up of time, travel and whatnot, I was able to schedule both events into my day with just enough time to spare. Everything was perfectly planned and prepared for ahead of time. Looking back, I should have been suspicious.
Nia stayed at our house the night before. The plan was to go to the conference, present and then book it (no of course I wouldn't speed)from Manchester to Keene to get to class. No problem. As we walked out of the house, I noticed one of my tires was a little flat. No problem, I just stopped and filled it up and we were off to Manchester. (Nia, stop giggling, I can hear you from here). The conference went well, my presentation was well received and we left with plenty of time to get to Keene with a stop at Panera's to get food and coffee. (Mmmm, mocha lattes....sorry caffeine tangent).
It was a cloudy day, the sky was just waiting to open up. No problem, we'd be in class by then. Uh-huh. Then, traveling along Route 9, about ten minutes from Keene, my car started to handle funny. Uh-oh I thought....just get me to Keene. Then I started to hear the thump...thump...thump that along with the smell of burning rubber alerted me to the fact I had a flat. Quickly pulling far over onto the shoulder...trust me you don't want to be anywhere near the traffic on that road...I stopped, got out and looked.
I couldn't just have a simple flat...no I had to have a shredded tire. Okay, I can change a tire no problem... While I was digging everything out of the back of my car, an ordeal in and of itself, Nia was trying to call a classmate to let them know we'd be a bit late. That was when it started to rain. So okay, sometimes the Universe is not particularly nice to me, but it usually works out fine. So I'm keeping my swearing to a minimum....okay, I was keeping the volume to a minimum, and I hadn't gotten to the really creative ones yet. Nia meanwhile is happily chatting away on the phone, just as a NH State trooper pulls up to help. Needless to say we were both very happy.
Granted I can change a tire, I just don't like to do it. If the damsel in distress mode gets me out of it, so much the better. The very nice trooper was happy to help. It was a good thing he did stop. The tire iron that came with Fith (aka the KIA) sucks...as does the jack. Also, the tire rim did not want to come off, at least not until I beat on it a bit. Finally we got the bad tire off and replaced with the doughnut which would get me to Keene and then home. Of course, this is all just background for the really funny part (I say funny as in ironic, Nia says funny as in HA, HA, I have to tell everyone in the cohort this!)
The Trooper's tire iron was one of those nice 4 way versions. They spin very nicely to tighten up the lug nuts. Which he was doing as he had me start lowering the jack. Unfortunately, that required my head being in the vicinity of the tire iron. Everything was coming along nicely when
*whack*. The tire iron hit me right in the forehead.
It did stun me for a second...until I could hear Nia LAUGHING. And no it did not break the tire iron as was suggested by one of my friends. The poor Trooper though. He was so embarrassed and was apologizing profusely, over Nia's LAUGHING. assured him that there were many people who would have paid to have seen it happen. Nia agreed, laughing even more (wait, why do I like you again...?). In the process, I also broke my last watch...it's that linear time thing. He hurriedly packed up and sent us on our way to class, calling out our thanks as we went.
Of course, those of you who have known me for a long time know that 1) I am stubborn, sometimes to the point of stupidity when the Universe is trying to get a message to me and 2) I am hardheaded in all sense of the word...Irish and Italian...you expect what else? The standard joke is it requires a 4x4 to the head repeatedly to get me to pay attention and follow the guidance I'm given. Apparently the 4x4 has been retired...or broken...I swear it was not intentional. The guardian angel apparently was forced to resort to tire irons.
Needless to say the story was told throughout Antioch that week. Especially since my head didn't actually start to hurt until about an hour later. Further proof of my thick head...did I mention the Irish part? So that is the story. Of course now I cannot help but wonder what will happen if I break a tire iron?
Thursday, August 27, 2009
TAH DAH!
It has been a year...and a few days...oops...since I last posted. I I apologize for the long gap in between posts.
I would say it is because of my personal issues with linear time...the same issues that prevent me from wearing an actual correctly operating time piece and that change the time on my alarm clock (despite the time lock remaining firmly in place). I could make the argument and most of you would believe it. I could even argue that a certain godson of mine...I have only one officially until November...has been playing with the time/space continuum, despite strict orders from this godmother ( Don't laugh Dryad, I'll revise the contract again and you'll get them BOTH when he turns 12, hee, hee, hee)...but I digress.
The actual reason I have been lapse in posting is the past year has been long and full of various adventures, a mixed bag of them ( Envision a sack full of cats, it is sort of the same thing). Some were wonderful. others not so much, some I hope to never have to repeat experiencing again in this lifetime. All of it combined contributed to me having little time or brain power for blogging.
But that is all going to change. In honor of my birthday, I am gifting all of you with a promise to post at least once a week. I have at least 52 stories from the past year, some quite amusing to share. And since my birthday isn't until tomorrow...I'm already early! Woohoo! Quick, someone mark it on a calendar, it likely won't happen again any time soon.
I will try to post tomorrow...but I can't promise. It is my birthday and I plan to head to the ocean for the day. The laptop...which needs a name by the way...is staying home. While I will have my phone with me...it does not get a signal where I am going. Double woohoo!
Maybe I will start with the adventure I had with the tire iron...(Shut up Nia, it wasn't that funny!)
I would say it is because of my personal issues with linear time...the same issues that prevent me from wearing an actual correctly operating time piece and that change the time on my alarm clock (despite the time lock remaining firmly in place). I could make the argument and most of you would believe it. I could even argue that a certain godson of mine...I have only one officially until November...has been playing with the time/space continuum, despite strict orders from this godmother ( Don't laugh Dryad, I'll revise the contract again and you'll get them BOTH when he turns 12, hee, hee, hee)...but I digress.
The actual reason I have been lapse in posting is the past year has been long and full of various adventures, a mixed bag of them ( Envision a sack full of cats, it is sort of the same thing). Some were wonderful. others not so much, some I hope to never have to repeat experiencing again in this lifetime. All of it combined contributed to me having little time or brain power for blogging.
But that is all going to change. In honor of my birthday, I am gifting all of you with a promise to post at least once a week. I have at least 52 stories from the past year, some quite amusing to share. And since my birthday isn't until tomorrow...I'm already early! Woohoo! Quick, someone mark it on a calendar, it likely won't happen again any time soon.
I will try to post tomorrow...but I can't promise. It is my birthday and I plan to head to the ocean for the day. The laptop...which needs a name by the way...is staying home. While I will have my phone with me...it does not get a signal where I am going. Double woohoo!
Maybe I will start with the adventure I had with the tire iron...(Shut up Nia, it wasn't that funny!)
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Happy News!
Wonderful news...I have a new faerygodbaby. Hailey Rene was born last night. I saw her today. She is beautiful. There is nothing better than holding a brand new life to make the world seem like an okay place. And for those who are keeping track, Hailey is my ninth godbaby.
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