Memorial Day

It's Memorial Day weekend and the news channels dedicate a large portion of their programming to stories about people who lost loved ones in military service. Men and women who gave their lives for their country. My country. The "ultimate sacrifice" in places as remote as other planets. All to protect the freedoms we enjoy everyday. How can we thank you enough.
But there is another part of military service that often goes unnoticed. Wars and conflicts make big headlines but day to day military service in itself is hard. Being on call twenty four hours a day seven days a week,often thousands of miles from home. I doctor's schedule without a doctor's pay. A few months in the field or a four month cruise in the Medditerranean. Training on the west coast or sending the ship to dry dock. All of this happens while your loved ones wait for you at home. Babies are born and relatives are buried. Soccer games are played and proms are held. Children grow up.
Sitting with my daughter on the edge of her bed laughing at her mother making a fool of herself on the Wii. It's Friday night yes, but it could be any night. It could be every night. I don't have to listen for the midnight phone call that will send me far away for god knows how long. I turn the air down,pet my dog and get in my own bed.
Thank you men and women of the military. Thank you for protecting this country that I love. I think that the life that you live and the job that you do is in itself, "the ultimate sacrifice".

unconditional love

My heart goes out to a friend of mine that lost a family member this weekend. There wont be a big service, just a private gathering for immediate family at their home. Nobody will bring a covered dish or send flowers and life will just go on as usual this week. No hugs from aunts and uncles and no jokes from his best friend at work. Though the deceased lived a long and rewarding life, their will not be an obituary in the local paper. There wont be clothes to box up and send to Goodwill because this family member never wore them. He was a dog.
Man's best friend. Human's best friend. A love so pure that that it makes other humans jealous. "You love that damn dog more than you love me!" I've heard it before and I'm sure most other dog lovers have too. But it's different. It is unconditional love. A friend that will listen to you, literally hang on your ever word, even when you make no sense at all. A friend that waits all day for you to come home from work and is glad to see you even when your ass is perched on your shoulders and clearly visible to all. A true friend.
Several of my friends told me years ago, as they watched me dote on my dog, that once I had children I would know what real love was. That I would "put that dog outside and not think twice about it". That didn't happen. I love my daughter more than life itself, but I love my dog too. When she was born it just seemed like my family grew larger. More to love.
As I sit here and write this, I am being watched (with eyes closed) by a true friend of more than ten years. A friend that knows me as well as anyone I've ever known. A friend that misses my daughter, who is away at camp, as much as I do. A friend that knows what time PJ gets off work and worries when she runs late. A friend who's lifetime, when compared to mine, is just a blink of an eye. A flower that grows a beautiful bloom then fades back into the earth, leaving it's mark on us all. A true friend that continues to teach me about unconditional love.

The learning Curve

As Americans we are trained at an early age to dial 911 in case of emergency. Any emergency. If you crack your car up on the highway a police car will show up with lights flashing and siren wailing. He will direct traffic around the accident and, if needed, help load you in the ambulance. If you burn too many leaves in your front yard and fire truck will appear out of nowhere and extinguish the flames. Even if you are dumb enough to attempt to climb a remote snow capped mountain, one cell phone call and a helicopter will pluck you off the slope. We all tend to be a little careless because there is a back up plan. Dial 911.

Tonight, as I watched the media footage of the oil washing ashore in the pristine marshlands of the Gulf of Mexico, I wondered why someone had not dialed 911. Everyone seemed to be just riding around the spill and talking about how bad it was going to be, or laying out a plastic dam to hold it back. No fire trucks, no flashing lights, no sirens. This looks like an emergency to me! Then it occured to me that there is no back up plan. It is not that we aren't trying, it's that we have no idea what to do. Never thought this would happen?

It reminds me of those shows that I flip past when nothing good is on television. "America's dumbest criminals, kids, sports fans, etc..". You watch them and laugh at just how stupid some people can be. "They must be drunk to do that". It's hilarious! "What was he thinking?" You are witnessing the learning curve.
Why do we carry a gas can in the trunk of the car? Why is there a jack and a spare tire there too? That credit card in the back of your wallet that you never use? It's called "just in case". Well we have arrived at "just in case" and there is no 911 to call. When will we learn?

school days

The last couple of months I've been helping with the planning of my high school reunion. We've had two meetings already and I've seen some people I haven't seen in quite awhile. Thirty years to be exact. I have been out of high school for longer than many of my friends have been alive. A lifetime. Several of my classmates talk about their retirement dates at these meetings. It's weird,I don't see my retirement anytime soon and I'm not nearly old enough.
I felt lucky this morning to be the one to get to wake my daughter up and say "two more days of school". The look on her face says it all and she gets right up. No groaning and hugging the pillow as she rolls over. She eats breakfast and is ready to head out even before I am. I wish we could bottle this to use on those Tuesday mornings in January when the light at the end of the tunnel is so dim you need a flashlight at breakfast. But it's in the air!
Traffic on the way to school is extra heavy. The line of cars extends from the school drive out into the road. Children that typically ride the bus are being delivered in mom's car. Parents are either running late or just driving the kids to school themselves to be part of the excitement. The kids get out of the cars laughing and almost run in the building. The teachers that usually direct traffic out front are propped against the railing and... smiling? Two more days.
It's kind of like Christmas. No matter how old you are you still feel it. The grocery stores have popsicles on their rail ends. The bread men don't even bother to put the hamburger and hot dog buns on the shelf, they leave carts of them out in the isle. Colorful bags of charcoal and lighter fluid at every corner. Summertime! I don't know how long you have to be out of school to not feel this excitement, but I do know that it is more than thirty years!

11 killed

I finished eating dinner early last night so I could tune into the national news to get the latest update on the oil spill in the gulf. Everyday the oil inches closer to some pristine marsh land and beautiful beaches and continues to flow from the uncapped well. Several failed attempts to capture the escaping crude have made headlines and caused involved parties to start a "passing the buck contest". This could potentially be the worst spill we have had in the United States, ever. Once eleven million and one gallon escapes we are there.

But last night, as I listened to the sensational lead in by the news anchor, I heard something that I don't think I've heard before. Sure, they say it every time, but I only heard it yesterday. Eleven hard working people were killed in the fire and ensuing explosions when the oil rig collapsed. Eleven people who's only crime was being at work when disaster struck. Eleven individuals that will be only a footnote in the wake of the natural disaster that follows.

This reminds me of a quote from a Tim Wilson song, "don't blame your paulbearers if they don't show, if your buried in the middle of the Superbowl". Lost in the confusion. We have become so accustomed to footage of large disasters with large body counts that eleven seems like a near miss. The "compound interest" of eleven deaths is huge. Mothers,fathers,children,grandchildren, spouses, you do the math.

I can only hope that we learn some valuable lesson from this spill. I think we have already learned that $500,000 for a cap that can close the well from the surface is cheap. Our need for oil is not going to go away, and we have to figure out how to harvest it safely. I'm not an engineer and I don't pretend to know the answers, but today I want to pray for the families that lost their loved ones in this disaster.

"my" day

I have enjoyed more than my fair share of memorable birthdays in my forty seven years. Turning sixteen was cool, but I had been driving everywhere I wanted for the previous year already. I don't really remember twenty, but thirty seemed monumental even though I ruined the surprise party that my wife had planned. Something came up and the only way she could get me to go to the party was to tell me about it. I did my best to act surprised, but she wasn't pleased. Forty came and went with little fanfare and now I'm closing in on fifty. Another birthday with a zero!
But all forty seven of these, as good as they were,pale in comparison to the birthdays I now look forward to. I love to recieve gifts and eat cake. I enjoy my yearly "fifteen minutes", and Facebook makes you feel like a celebrity. Just the fact that I have survived another year, while some have not, makes me happy. I have alway thought there was nothing better than "my" day, but then I had a daughter.
For one day out of the year (a week if you milk it) I could play like a kid. I could wear a grass skirt and get hit with water balloons. I could be the first one found because I was too big in a game of hide and seek. I could come in last place in every party game and not feel like a loser. It would feel like "my" day too, and after we rested up we would talk about it for weeks. This year my daughter will be thirteen.
A memorable birthday. Becoming a teenager! Cell phones and I-tunes cards will replace the dolls and toys. A few to spend the night instead of a crowd to enjoy the day. Cake and ice cream of course, but probably no hula skirts and water guns. More talking and texting than playing. My wife and I will be more like hosts than guests. I will have to be on my best behavior because (I already knew this) I can be embarsssing. Times are changing.
I have watched her grow into a young lady in what seems like overnight. From hanging on my every word to correcting to my grammer. From laughing at my jokes to telling one funnier than mine. I miss the little girl, but I am proud of what she is now. I may not be one of the kids at the party anymore, but this will still be "my" day.

Blindside

It took a few minutes to adjust to the light as we walked outside into the blinding midday sun. The crowded parking lot bore no resemblence to the Pandora we left in the movie theatre. Everything looked plain and quiet. Our ears were still ringing and imaginations fueled. When we got in the car I said " If you only see one movie this year, it should be Avatar". Glad my fantasy loving wife and daughter dragged me along. We talked about the movie the whole way home and vowed to own it when it came to DVD.

Going to the theatre to watch movies has become an extremely expensive event. We look at the new releases and movie trailers and try to decide which ones warrant going to see and which ones to wait on. Usually the more action the film has determines this decision. "Blindside" was a film that did not make the large screen cut for us. Probably because we heard it was sad and we didn't want to waste the pocket space smuggling in kleenex. My wife and I both are embarassing snifflers and watch some movies with our backs touching. My daughter thinks this is not very cool, so we try not to do it in public.

We rented "Blindside" and joked that we would each bring a towel instead of wasting a box of tissue. Our movie room in the basement is really almost as good as the cinema. We have a projector and a sound system, and yard sale furniture that is very comfortable. Nobody kicks the back of your seat and there are never any screaming children. The room is nice and dark and we can sit far enough away from each other to have a private experience. Perfect.

Well the movie was excellent. Uplifting instead of sad and it really made me think. Would I have taken in that boy like that family did? Have I had the chance and passed it up? Looked the other way and went on with my busy life. Probably. I am a "have", and he is a "have not". I have a home. I have a family. I have people that love me. These are not small things,these are everything. We all have a great gift to give that doesn't cost a dime, love.

If you see one movie this year, it should be "Blindside"