One of the best times I had (besides spending time with my son and family) was the time I spent during Desert Storm as part of the Any Service Member writing "team".
Back then, it was relatively easy...you write a letter, address the envelope to "Any Service Member"...when the letter got to Kuwait or Iraq, someone who didn't get a lot of mail would take the letter and, hopefully, write back!
(I am still close to one of "my soldiers". I consider him one of my closest friends...even though we've only met once and he is now living and working in Dubai).
Now, after 9/11, if you want to write to anyone serving overseas, you have to go through an entire screening process. I'm not complaining because I would NOT want to endanger our guys and gals! They have enough stress to deal with! But, I still feel the need to do what I can and, since I'm way too old to join the military (can't see me marching 10 miles with a 75lb pack on my back...can't even see me marching 10 FEET!!!) I thought I would try to get involved again in a similar group.
About 3 weeks ago, while on Facebook searching pen pal sites (I Love pen pals and writing an old fashioned, snail mail letter), I found Soldiers' Angels. After reading maybe two pages of their website, I immediately signed up. I opted for the $50 lifetime membership. Why? Because, with that $50, a random service member in need will receive a care package, from me, sent from Soldiers' Angels headquarters! (The "fee" also verifies that you are who you say you are).
While there, you can also sign up for other "teams". Eventually, after some time and experience writing to our men and women in the "sandbox", I will be able to write to our wounded warriors back here in the states who also need our love and support.l
I received my first soldier name and address and immediately wrote a letter. Unlike a pen pal website, where you read a small profile of a person's likes and dislikes, writing to this soldier was like writing blind. I know nothing about him at all, with the exception of his age and rank.
How do I know he will enjoy reading my letter? How do I know he will have the time and energy to write back? How do I know that something I wrote may have offended him in some way??
I don't. What I do know is he needs this mail! He needs to know that I back what he is doing 110%! He needs to know that who he is, and what he's doing, is important in every way!
So, I wrote that letter. I told him about myself and my family. I described the town that I live in and what I do for hobbies and work. Basically, I wrote to him with the intention of making a new friend and showing my support. I will write and send cards and packages until I find out he's home, safe and sound.
I will also, through networking, get as many people as I can to sign up and write to our troops overseas. The cool thing about SA is that they have a number posted at the top right hand corner of those in the military who need "adopting". The last time I checked in, it was at 1600+.
1600 does not seem like a huge amount. But, these are men and women in a war zone, under stressful, frightening conditions, who get little to no mail. They may not have a family back home to show their support.
Or, God forbid, they have a family who doesn't agree with the war and refuses to write to them.
You don't have to agree with the why of it. You DO have to support our men and women who fight for our country!
So, if they don't have family, or have a family that doesn't support them, I will become their family!!
There are so many groups out there who are actively helping our military in any way possible. Some are able to put on fund raisers to send care packages. Some individuals go without their favorite weekly items (gourmet coffee, lunch out, etc) and use that money to buy postage because they write to so many people and send so many packages.
Even if all I write to is this one soldier, 44 cents is worth it! 44 cents may bring a little happiness and joy and maybe a laugh or two!!
My dad was in the Army. Ethan was going to be a Marine. I can not imagine him being in the middle of war and not having the support of our family. Maybe this is why I feel so strongly about this new endeavor. Writing to these men and women helps to ease MY pain and grief.
I have to go...have to write another letter to my soldier. My goal is for him to receive one letter and/or card per week!
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Monday, September 6, 2010
Firsts...
Tomorrow is the first day of school.
My 10 year old is having a rough time. He just flat out does not want to go to school. So, I started thinking about all the first days of school I had and remember, distinctly, feeling the same way.
I hated school....there wasn't one thing in all my years that I enjoyed about it. I remember wishing that I could stay home...it wasn't until later that I learned about homeschooling.
So, now I have to deal with the same thing my parents had to deal with. The belly aches, headaches, toothaches, earaches.....etc. Anything to use as an excuse to stay home where I was most comfortable and felt like I belonged.
I totally understand what my son is going through.
Then, I started thinking of "Firsts"....
After August 15, 2009, we had a whole year of "Firsts" to get through.
Connor's first day of school after Grandpa and Ethan died was filled with changes....
1. Grandpa and Ethan died (which Connor witnessed)
2. Burying two very integral members of our family
3. Connor starting 4th grade at a new school (our district moves kids from elementary to a bigger school beginning in 4th grade)
4. Making the decision to sell our house and move in with Grandma
5. Getting rid of Connor's dog and cat and half of our household
6. September 27, Grandma's first birthday without her soulmate
7. November - First Thanksgiving without Grandpa and Ethan
8. December - First Christmas without Grandpa and Ethan
9. January - First New Year without Grandpa and Ethan......
The list of "Firsts" is endless.
It was a year of "Firsts". Everyone told us..."the firsts are the worst...."
Well, what about the "Seconds"???? As far as I'm concerned, so far the seconds aren't any better.
Tomorrow would have been Ethan's first day as a senior.
See? It's neverending.
My 10 year old is having a rough time. He just flat out does not want to go to school. So, I started thinking about all the first days of school I had and remember, distinctly, feeling the same way.
I hated school....there wasn't one thing in all my years that I enjoyed about it. I remember wishing that I could stay home...it wasn't until later that I learned about homeschooling.
So, now I have to deal with the same thing my parents had to deal with. The belly aches, headaches, toothaches, earaches.....etc. Anything to use as an excuse to stay home where I was most comfortable and felt like I belonged.
I totally understand what my son is going through.
Then, I started thinking of "Firsts"....
After August 15, 2009, we had a whole year of "Firsts" to get through.
Connor's first day of school after Grandpa and Ethan died was filled with changes....
1. Grandpa and Ethan died (which Connor witnessed)
2. Burying two very integral members of our family
3. Connor starting 4th grade at a new school (our district moves kids from elementary to a bigger school beginning in 4th grade)
4. Making the decision to sell our house and move in with Grandma
5. Getting rid of Connor's dog and cat and half of our household
6. September 27, Grandma's first birthday without her soulmate
7. November - First Thanksgiving without Grandpa and Ethan
8. December - First Christmas without Grandpa and Ethan
9. January - First New Year without Grandpa and Ethan......
The list of "Firsts" is endless.
It was a year of "Firsts". Everyone told us..."the firsts are the worst...."
Well, what about the "Seconds"???? As far as I'm concerned, so far the seconds aren't any better.
Tomorrow would have been Ethan's first day as a senior.
See? It's neverending.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
A new year
It has been a year since we lost Dad and Ethan. I haven't posted in quite awhile. To be perfectly honest, I haven't done much of anything. I haven't wanted to.
I finally made a visit to a new doctor and have been diagnosed with moderate to severe depression and am on some medication. In a month, I hope that I will notice a difference.
The past year has been, frankly, a bitch. I have been guilty of trying to force my mom, son, sister, and brother-in-law to accept that 2 integral members of our family are gone. Because, I've accepted it...right???
That is a big negative. I feel nothing. No tears...no sadness...just emptiness. I keep wondering when that's going to break free?
From the beginning, I needed to be the strong one to hold everyone together...not just my mom, son, sister, and brother-in-law but the extended family, as well. I had to stay strong for those moments when others fell apart.
Then, in April, Mom, Mary (a really good friend of ours), and I attended the Women of Faith Conference in Columbus, OH. The conference began Friday and ran through Saturday evening. After the Friday session, I was drained completely and hoped Mom and Mary wouldn't want to attend the Friday evening session.
They, too, felt the same way and we opted to sit in the hotel room and reflect.
That weekend, I cried and realized that I missed my dad and Ethan so much that I was afraid to show exactly how much.
I also realized that WOF was something that I would like to do. With my renewed relationship with God, I can use the story of our tragedy to bring understanding, acceptance, and peace to other women who have suffered through events such as ours.
I continue to read the Bible. We've found a wonderful church, Mt. Hope, in Gaylord. We've met and listened to wonderful pastors. My sister is in "counseling" of a sort with one of the pastor's and we've all seen a difference.
We all have a closer, more loving relationship with each other and with our family.
Every day poses a different challenge. Life goes on whether we want it to or not. Things change and we change with it.
But, it's a new year.
I finally made a visit to a new doctor and have been diagnosed with moderate to severe depression and am on some medication. In a month, I hope that I will notice a difference.
The past year has been, frankly, a bitch. I have been guilty of trying to force my mom, son, sister, and brother-in-law to accept that 2 integral members of our family are gone. Because, I've accepted it...right???
That is a big negative. I feel nothing. No tears...no sadness...just emptiness. I keep wondering when that's going to break free?
From the beginning, I needed to be the strong one to hold everyone together...not just my mom, son, sister, and brother-in-law but the extended family, as well. I had to stay strong for those moments when others fell apart.
Then, in April, Mom, Mary (a really good friend of ours), and I attended the Women of Faith Conference in Columbus, OH. The conference began Friday and ran through Saturday evening. After the Friday session, I was drained completely and hoped Mom and Mary wouldn't want to attend the Friday evening session.
They, too, felt the same way and we opted to sit in the hotel room and reflect.
That weekend, I cried and realized that I missed my dad and Ethan so much that I was afraid to show exactly how much.
I also realized that WOF was something that I would like to do. With my renewed relationship with God, I can use the story of our tragedy to bring understanding, acceptance, and peace to other women who have suffered through events such as ours.
I continue to read the Bible. We've found a wonderful church, Mt. Hope, in Gaylord. We've met and listened to wonderful pastors. My sister is in "counseling" of a sort with one of the pastor's and we've all seen a difference.
We all have a closer, more loving relationship with each other and with our family.
Every day poses a different challenge. Life goes on whether we want it to or not. Things change and we change with it.
But, it's a new year.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Ethan...Marine in spirit
My nephew, Ethan, talked about becoming a United States Marine from the time he was small. There was never any doubt that he would enter the Corps and go far, had he lived.
Marines are a breed of their own. Cocky, brave, smart, wiley, intelligent... My uncle is a Marine and 2 of my best friends are Marines.They all agreed that Ethan had the mental fortitude to be a Marine.
Ethan was kind, funny, loving, smart, shy.... He hated to be the center of attention. He had friends of all types. He was loyal to those friends and those friends were loyal to him.
In the last couple of weeks, two of those friends have, at the ages of 16 and 17, gone out and gotten memorial tattoos. What young man, at the age of 16, inspires such love and loyalty in his friends that they would get tattoos...with his name forever etched into their skin?
I am amazed at how much I didn't know about this boy who was my first, only, and forever nephew.
I cannot even begin to describe how much I miss Ethan; how much my son, who idolized his older cousin, misses Ethan. Part of me is so angry that he died! Why?? He was only 16 and had his whole life to live for.
But, my pain is minor compared to that of my sister.
I ache for her and don't know what to do to help her.
Ethan was her only child. She struggled to have him and wasn't able to have any more after him. Right now, even though thousands of mothers have lost children, no one's pain compares to my sister's. It's only been two months. Does the pain get easier to deal with?
What I think of now is what a wonderful Marine our country will miss. Ethan wrote for one of his classes about becoming a Marine and the fact that he could die protecting his country. It didn't bother him. He was ready for it. His attitude towards death and dying was so much more mature than any of ours.
One day, I'll post his paper here for all the world to see. His maturity would shame many men twice his age.
Regardless of the fact that Ethan never went to boot camp, he is a Marine in spirit. His patriotism rivaled that of his grandpa's. God saw what a loving, fair person he was here on Earth and needed him to be one of his ultimate warriors in heaven. Ethan and his grandpa, my dad, are there now protecting our souls.
I miss them every day and wonder, always....why?
Marines are a breed of their own. Cocky, brave, smart, wiley, intelligent... My uncle is a Marine and 2 of my best friends are Marines.They all agreed that Ethan had the mental fortitude to be a Marine.
Ethan was kind, funny, loving, smart, shy.... He hated to be the center of attention. He had friends of all types. He was loyal to those friends and those friends were loyal to him.
In the last couple of weeks, two of those friends have, at the ages of 16 and 17, gone out and gotten memorial tattoos. What young man, at the age of 16, inspires such love and loyalty in his friends that they would get tattoos...with his name forever etched into their skin?
I am amazed at how much I didn't know about this boy who was my first, only, and forever nephew.
I cannot even begin to describe how much I miss Ethan; how much my son, who idolized his older cousin, misses Ethan. Part of me is so angry that he died! Why?? He was only 16 and had his whole life to live for.
But, my pain is minor compared to that of my sister.
I ache for her and don't know what to do to help her.
Ethan was her only child. She struggled to have him and wasn't able to have any more after him. Right now, even though thousands of mothers have lost children, no one's pain compares to my sister's. It's only been two months. Does the pain get easier to deal with?
What I think of now is what a wonderful Marine our country will miss. Ethan wrote for one of his classes about becoming a Marine and the fact that he could die protecting his country. It didn't bother him. He was ready for it. His attitude towards death and dying was so much more mature than any of ours.
One day, I'll post his paper here for all the world to see. His maturity would shame many men twice his age.
Regardless of the fact that Ethan never went to boot camp, he is a Marine in spirit. His patriotism rivaled that of his grandpa's. God saw what a loving, fair person he was here on Earth and needed him to be one of his ultimate warriors in heaven. Ethan and his grandpa, my dad, are there now protecting our souls.
I miss them every day and wonder, always....why?
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Two Months
Today is the 2 month "anniversary" of the deaths of my dad and my nephew.
Anniversary. What a horrible word. To me, anniversary means something to celebrate. My nephew drowning and my dad dying, trying to save him, is nothing to celebrate.
My 9 year old son watching it all unfold is nothing to celebrate. Almost losing my mom, as she tried to save Dad and Ethan, is nothing to celebrate.
My sister losing her only child is definitely nothing to celebrate.
Isn't there another word that can be used? I'm going to research that.
We (Mom and I) had company last night. People that have been friends for a long long time. I find that I'm ok with family. With friends, however, I feel very detached. Maybe I'm not ready to be "out and about" any more than the 8 hours I'm at work.
One thing I have realized since the trauma of that day...my relationship with God has changed. For a long time, I was so far removed from Him. I've since realized that God knows, from the time of conception, the day that we will die. He isn't able to stop our dying nor is He able to control how we live our lives. He gives us free will and we use what we have to try to live our lives to the fullest...or, totally screw up what He gives us and become total failures. If they hadn't stopped at Lake Michigan that day to swim, something else (car accident, a plane crashing into their vehicle, etc.) would have taken them because it WAS THEIR DAY TO GO.
Not once have I felt anger at God. I've felt anger at the circumstances of the "accident".
Since that day, I have felt a "closeness" to God. I understand that my dad and nephew were such wonderful, loved, loving people here on Earth that God needed them to prepare for the battle He foresaw (and is depicted in Revelations). Who better than my dad and my nephew and the goodness of their souls to prepare the way for our eventual welcome to Heaven?
Knowing that, though, I still miss them horribly. Some days the pain is almost overwhelming. Other days, it's like I'm in a dream zone. I'm GOING to wake up and find this entire thing has been the worst kind of nightmare.
Reality hits and I have to take a deep breath. It IS the worst kind of nightmare...and we are living it.
Anniversary. What a horrible word. To me, anniversary means something to celebrate. My nephew drowning and my dad dying, trying to save him, is nothing to celebrate.
My 9 year old son watching it all unfold is nothing to celebrate. Almost losing my mom, as she tried to save Dad and Ethan, is nothing to celebrate.
My sister losing her only child is definitely nothing to celebrate.
Isn't there another word that can be used? I'm going to research that.
We (Mom and I) had company last night. People that have been friends for a long long time. I find that I'm ok with family. With friends, however, I feel very detached. Maybe I'm not ready to be "out and about" any more than the 8 hours I'm at work.
One thing I have realized since the trauma of that day...my relationship with God has changed. For a long time, I was so far removed from Him. I've since realized that God knows, from the time of conception, the day that we will die. He isn't able to stop our dying nor is He able to control how we live our lives. He gives us free will and we use what we have to try to live our lives to the fullest...or, totally screw up what He gives us and become total failures. If they hadn't stopped at Lake Michigan that day to swim, something else (car accident, a plane crashing into their vehicle, etc.) would have taken them because it WAS THEIR DAY TO GO.
Not once have I felt anger at God. I've felt anger at the circumstances of the "accident".
Since that day, I have felt a "closeness" to God. I understand that my dad and nephew were such wonderful, loved, loving people here on Earth that God needed them to prepare for the battle He foresaw (and is depicted in Revelations). Who better than my dad and my nephew and the goodness of their souls to prepare the way for our eventual welcome to Heaven?
Knowing that, though, I still miss them horribly. Some days the pain is almost overwhelming. Other days, it's like I'm in a dream zone. I'm GOING to wake up and find this entire thing has been the worst kind of nightmare.
Reality hits and I have to take a deep breath. It IS the worst kind of nightmare...and we are living it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)