Veterans Day

Today is Veterans day. The holiday honoring all U.S military veterans. It is known and observed in other parts of the world as Armistice Day (the symbolic end of World War I) or Remembrance Day (the day to commemorate the sacrifices of members of the armed forces specifically since WWI.)

Why November 11? November 11 is the anniversary of the signing of the Armistice that ended World War I. (Major hostilities of World War I were formally ended at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month of 1918 with the German signing of the Armistice.)

This day, in my humble opinion, should be a day for remembering and thanking and honoring the men and women who fought for the United States and came home forever changed by what they've seen. It irritates me that here in the U.S. Veterans Day has become little more than another day for stores to have big sales. It saddens me that an estimated 1/4 of the homeless in America are vets who haven't received the help they've needed when they come home. To me it was wrong that the flag-draped coffins of American Soldiers who died fighting for freedom couldn't be shown on TV because it was considered too "political" and divisive.

One of my most enduring memories of my childhood is walking into Arlington National Cemetery during a trip to Washington, D.C. and seeing all those white headstones perfectly lined up. There was row after row on a green field. As a young teenager, I was profoundly moved and awed to realize that each and every one of those headstones was someone who had served in this nation's military. It was a very visual lesson on just how many men and women it took/takes for me to live free.

So, please take the time to watch the video and offer a prayer of thanks for those who defend our freedoms. This is by a Canadian songwriter named Terry Kelly


I am overwhelmingly appreciative for the fact that someone fought for my freedom... and humbled by the fact that so many died for it. I am grateful for my grandfathers, all three of them, who served in WWII -- two in the Navy and one in the Army Air Corps. I am indebted all those who fought in WWII -- the War to End All Wars -- and for those who have fought in all the wars before and after. I am deeply grateful for those who are this country's newest veterans. I do believe they are making me safer through their service.

I want to say thank you. Thank you for your service and your scrifices. I know the sacrifices are many and yet, you chose/choose to make them. Thank you.

Thursday Thirteen #15 -- I Hope We Never Forget

Since today isn't a "normal" Thursday, my Thursday 13 is going to be a bit different today. I hope each and everyone will take a moment to remember.

"Where were you when....?"

That seems to be the question of the day each September 11. I was at work. The boss was out of town and so the office was more relaxed than normal and we were all standing around chatting before we started our day. It wasn't even 8:00 a.m. (Texas time) yet.

A co-worker's husband called and told us to turn on the TV because a plane had hit the World Trade Center. We scoffed and thought it must be a mistake... an awful accident. It wasn't and we, like the rest of the world, watched in horror as the second plane hit, the towers fell. None of us cried. I think it was just too shocking, too unbelievable to think that airplanes had hit the Pentagon and the World Trade Center -- and then hearing about the plane that had gone down in Pennsylvania.

At about nine o'clock that morning, my boss' boss called and asked me to find everyone. She asked me to call each of my sales reps and find out where each person was (many were traveling and now stranded) and assure each of them that the company was there for them. I remember thinking that my brother-in-law was on his way to Baltimore (I don't know why I new that) and hoping, praying that his plane wasn't affected and had landed safely somewhere because at that point, it was still unclear where the planes had originated or were going.

September 11, 2001, like December 7 for my grandparents' generation and November 22 for my parents' generation is the day that will always be that "where were you when...?" day. I hope that none of us ever forget the fear and outrage we felt that day because if we forget we become complacent.

As I sit here today, watching a flag flutter in the breeze, there are so many things about that day that I will never forget.

I will never forget seeing that second plane turning and heading toward the World Trade Center and then watching in horror as it hit.

I will never forget watching the towers fall.

I will never forget the images of people, covered in dust and soot, walking away -- just walking.

I will never forget those who ran in as others ran out.

I will never forget the Falling Man.

I will never forget the rush of patriotism in the days following 9/11/2001.

I will never forget sitting in church surrounded by many, many people yet still feeling utterly alone and afraid.

I will never forget the sound of all those planes flying over trying to land at DFW Airport as American airspace was closed.

I will never forget the sound of utter silence at night in my apartment (that was in the DFW landing pattern) broken by F-14s doing flyovers.

I will never forget the seemingly unending sound of bagpipes playing Amazing Grace at the funerals of those who died.

I will never forget I am honored and blessed to live in the United States where I have the ability to pray and worship without fear.

I will never forget those in the military who even now fight to keep America free.

I will never forget that no matter her flaws, America is still the greatest country in the world and a beacon of light and hope to the world.

I hope none of us ever forget....

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Melancholy is a good word for it

I was reading blogs from my blogroll and this one really made me stop and think and realize that Granny's death has hit me a lot harder than I ever dreamed it would.

When I was a kid, I used to say that I had "spare" grandparents. I often volunteered to share my spare set with people. I was never really close to my step-father's family as a child. They were just kind-of there.

I grew up with my grandparents, all six of them, in the same general vicinity. Two sets of them lived in the same small town. I went to my spare grandparents' house on holidays and then went to my "real" grandparents' house as soon as possible. Even as a teen, I didn't see them much more than necessary. I had other grandparents, afterall.

When I was a young adult, I moved away from home. I didn't see much of my grandparents, any of them. I tried to stay in contact with my grandparents, my mother's parents and my natural father's parents, anyway. After Granny got sick, I asked about them more often, but didn't make an effort to really see them much. I did see Granny several times over the past few months. I made it a point to go see her when I was home for my internship.

I realized as I sat and spoke to this frail and very ill woman that she thought of me as her granddaughter. I got to know her a little bit while chatting during the commercials during Walker, Texas Ranger (one of her favorite shows along with Monk) and realized that though her body was weak, her sense of humor was intact.

The spunk that was Granny was still there. For an example... my favorite Granny story from the past few weeks is one told to me by my sister and mother today. It seems that my Aunt C kept telling Granny that she needed to stop watching Walker and Monk and instead talk to Jesus. Granny's response was simply that she would be able to talk to Jesus for eternity, but she didn't have much time left to watch Monk.

Now, only as an adult, do I realize the family dynamics that caused the lack of closeness and, while I don't pretend to understand or to like it, I do accept it for what it was. I had two other sets of grandparents, anyway, so my "spare" set were often an afterthought in my childish mind. It's only now as an adult and now especially after Granny's death, I realize how much I did love her and how special and lucky I was to have not one or two sets of grandparents who loved me, but three. They weren't spare, afterall.

Godspeed, Dear Robin. May You Rest in Peace

It is amazing to me how much you can grow to respect someone you've never met.

In 2006, when Maxie was diagnosed with feline diabetes, I found a website aptly named Feline Diabetes, and through it the FDMB (Feline Diabetes Message Board). Through that board, I have learned about caring for my diabetic cat. I have also made several dear friends with whom I have laughed with, celebrated victories with, and cried with.

One of the wonderful people I had the honor to "meet" through FDMB was Robin. I think it was about the time I came to the board that she was diagnosed with Breast Cancer, so she wasn't around much, but her posts and wisdom were often quoted, so I got to be a recipient of her knowledge that way.

Today I read the words I didn't want to read. Robin has lost her fight with cancer. She beat the breast cancer and how we celebrated. But a second primary tumor attacked her brain. She fought, you can't imagine how hard she fought, to beat this one back. Her survival time was double the predictions, but she lost her battle Friday night.

Her eulogy thread described her as:

An accountant and computer programmer by profession, Robin joined the feline diabetes community in 1998 when her beloved Tigger (GA) was diagnosed. Her contributions to the group as a whole have been numerous and important. Above all, she embodied the scientific spirit, always demanding an evidence based and logical approach to treating our cats. New research was discovered in her searches and forwarded to us. Old and rare cases were stored in her memory and brought forth when someone needed information. Her voice comes through strong and clear in many of the important FDMB documents. Although her no-nonsense style of writing was sometimes underappreciated, her information was solid gold - as was the indomitable heart behind it.

Rest In Peace, Robin. You will be missed.