I am sitting here in front of the computer, still in my coat and scarf having just got home, and badly needing to pee. But I had the urge to write, so that has to be the priority. Peeing can wait.
It's been terribly cold. So cold one's nipples might just crack and break off. If that doesn't happen, they could probably cut glass, they're so hard. Perhaps I've just thought of a new business idea.
Today is Thursday which is my day off. This means that I'm not teaching Nia, and have no schools in which to volunteer. I always think I'll be creative on Thursdays-playing the guitar, working on a new Nia routine, or writing in my blog. But it rarely happens. I usually end up running errands to the bank, the post office, and the grocery store. Then, ultimately, I end up at Target or one of my favorite second hand stores. I can peruse the aisles for hours if I have nowhere to be. I find it both relaxing and mindless to do this. By the time I leave, my brain feels a little bit jello-ey and somehow exhausted. So then I have to come home, eat lunch and take a nap. I'll set the alarm so I can get up to probably NOT be creative, but perhaps be productive. There is always domestic things to do like cleaning the toothpaste off the bathroom counter that's been piling up because the 6 year old gets it everywhere. However, once I'm in my cozy bed that's warm, and smells good it's ridiculously hard to get up. Especially on a cold day such as this when I know my nipples will turn hard as rock again. Why not just stay in bed until I absolutely HAVE to get up to pick up the boys from school?
After a day off such as this, I feel indulgent, but also just a little bit guilty at how little I did end up doing. Perhaps the day also feels just a little bit meaningless.
Today, though, was different. I FELT creative. I had to take advantage when the creativity starts to flow. If I can create just one small thing, I feel so much better. This way my nipples will stay soft. I don't want that weird "hard nipple" business idea to come to fruition anyway.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Friday, September 5, 2008
The next President of the United States of America, Barack Obama
All I have to say is that Barack Obama has to win the White House. He has to.
Besides thinking of him as just a little bit cute, I've never seen inspiration like he's induced in my lifetime. I watched as much of the Democratic National Convention as I could, and I kept feeling fired up, excited, hopeful. That is because he's a great speaker. A fantastic speaker at that. A speaker so great that I feel he really has moved people to get involved in their government. The Republicans mocked that aspect of him and it made me angry. Fiery angry. If a person, like Barack, who could have had any big time corporate dollar-pulling in job, can go to a poor area in a big city and get people mobilized to help themselves, how is that something to poke fun of? How is people working together to help each other making "more" of government?
I decided I needed to do something as well. I needed to get involved. So I volunteered last night with the Colorado Democrats at the phone bank. I sat in an office with about 10 other volunteers and made phone calls to assess support of the local and national candidates right now. It was disenheartening. But my list was one that had small, rural, Colorado towns on it. Most folks weren't home and many numbers were disconnected. I think I only spoke with about 9 people. When I asked a woman if she knew if she was going to vote for Obama or McCain she replied, "Absolutely NOT Obama." In fact, of the 9 I talked with only 1 said he would vote for Obama. Another said, "If I put them all in a big pile tonight, I'd vote for Sarah Palin." Sarah Palin? Oh man. She scares me more than McCain for sure.
This was also the week of the NRNC (Nasty Republican National Convention.) I had watched Sarah Palin make her big debut just the night before. I thought she was scary, mean, and nit picky. I didn't see any positive energy coming from her. Sure she was composed and she's a little bit cute, but come on dude. She's being investigated for fraud and she's for abstinence only sex-education with a pregnant 17year old. No one wants to touch that one, but doesn't that seem just a little CRAZY?
I left that office feeling depressed. But as I walked out I thought, they WILL win if I give in to that fear that Michelle Obama talks about. The fear that makes people not speak out, or not volunteer for what they believe in. The fear that McCain and Palin will win. The fear that I don't have control of my life as an American. I HATE making phone calls. Who wants to spend an evening calling people and getting not exactly rude replies back, but definitely harried and bothered ones? That's how I feel when people call me asking "just a few questions-it'll only take 30seconds" in the evening. And then I realized, my being in that office was Obama's doing. This is exactly what he talks about. He got me involved and inspired to do something even if it was just making phone calls. That whole thing about grass roots working from bottom to top? Well that was ME. And I was proud of it. I'm going to do it again.
The republicans are wrong. Community service is never something to mock. People who volunteer their time to reach out to other folks? Nothing to laugh about there.
Besides thinking of him as just a little bit cute, I've never seen inspiration like he's induced in my lifetime. I watched as much of the Democratic National Convention as I could, and I kept feeling fired up, excited, hopeful. That is because he's a great speaker. A fantastic speaker at that. A speaker so great that I feel he really has moved people to get involved in their government. The Republicans mocked that aspect of him and it made me angry. Fiery angry. If a person, like Barack, who could have had any big time corporate dollar-pulling in job, can go to a poor area in a big city and get people mobilized to help themselves, how is that something to poke fun of? How is people working together to help each other making "more" of government?
I decided I needed to do something as well. I needed to get involved. So I volunteered last night with the Colorado Democrats at the phone bank. I sat in an office with about 10 other volunteers and made phone calls to assess support of the local and national candidates right now. It was disenheartening. But my list was one that had small, rural, Colorado towns on it. Most folks weren't home and many numbers were disconnected. I think I only spoke with about 9 people. When I asked a woman if she knew if she was going to vote for Obama or McCain she replied, "Absolutely NOT Obama." In fact, of the 9 I talked with only 1 said he would vote for Obama. Another said, "If I put them all in a big pile tonight, I'd vote for Sarah Palin." Sarah Palin? Oh man. She scares me more than McCain for sure.
This was also the week of the NRNC (Nasty Republican National Convention.) I had watched Sarah Palin make her big debut just the night before. I thought she was scary, mean, and nit picky. I didn't see any positive energy coming from her. Sure she was composed and she's a little bit cute, but come on dude. She's being investigated for fraud and she's for abstinence only sex-education with a pregnant 17year old. No one wants to touch that one, but doesn't that seem just a little CRAZY?
I left that office feeling depressed. But as I walked out I thought, they WILL win if I give in to that fear that Michelle Obama talks about. The fear that makes people not speak out, or not volunteer for what they believe in. The fear that McCain and Palin will win. The fear that I don't have control of my life as an American. I HATE making phone calls. Who wants to spend an evening calling people and getting not exactly rude replies back, but definitely harried and bothered ones? That's how I feel when people call me asking "just a few questions-it'll only take 30seconds" in the evening. And then I realized, my being in that office was Obama's doing. This is exactly what he talks about. He got me involved and inspired to do something even if it was just making phone calls. That whole thing about grass roots working from bottom to top? Well that was ME. And I was proud of it. I'm going to do it again.
The republicans are wrong. Community service is never something to mock. People who volunteer their time to reach out to other folks? Nothing to laugh about there.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Be the master...
I was beginning to wonder if I was turning into a co-dependent baby.
I thought hubby and I had this great relationship, one where we each give and take. One where we compromise and share our feelings to work out what's best for us or the family. One that is the absolute definition of love (are you picturing all of the fat red hearts that should be encircling this paragraph?)
And then he was gone last night and I had no idea what the heck to do with myself after the boys were in bed. I ALWAYS like to have time to myself. Surely I had plenty of good ideas in which to partake. But nothing was coming to me.
I started feeling sorry for myself. I felt I had no project nor undertaking that would be beneficial for just ME. Even though I've been wanting to pick up my guitar again, find time to write again, and listen to those Spanish learning Cd's again.
But let's be realistic here. It was 8:30 pm and I was ready to veg out. However no new Netflix movie had arrived. No new book had captured my attention. And there was no zoning out occurring because of the lack of cable TV. I had watched a little of the diving at the Olympics but I was in no mood that night for women's volleyball or for a gruesome murder show. Come on! I wanted to shout. It's Wednesday night! Can someone throw me a frigging bone here? (This last from Dr. Evil in Austin Powers.)
I took a shower and thought about the fact that hubby and I are going through a tremendous change in our relationship. However, not one where I am co-dependent. I hope not anyway.
He's started graduate school. He is going for a Master's of Business Administration 2nights a week for the next 2 years. This is wonderful! I'm really excited for him. Even though he may not agree because he doesn't like to think of himself as a business man, (or rather one who must dress appropriately to be in the line of business-he's just more comfortable in cargo shorts and his trademark paisley button-down) this program will suit him really well. He's a natural leader and does fabulously with communication (and he's a tech guy!) The MBA can only open more doors for him, whether at his present job or somewhere else.
Although, it's going to be tough. For Hubby, he will have to work all week, normal hours. And those 2 nights of "school" he will go straight from work to class. He will have studying to do as well. But if anyone can pull all of that off, it's him.
I know other people do this as well and come out of it with flying colors, like I know he will.
And me, well...a friend having gone through this exact scenario warned me that there was a "What about me?" feeling. She said one might question what she's doing at home when her partner is busy with both work and grad school. And the partner not in school may also feel a little left behind. And this came from a working mom! I just didn't expect that feeling to transpire the VERY FIRST night that hubby was gone, at orientation no less!
I think this will be good for both of us. We're going to have to figure out a good schedule for both of us, as well as time for both of us. I think I will need to find some good projects and some good books. And I am thinking of graduate school for me for the next year... I do think it will be important to ensure a good bloody movie has arrived on Mondays and Wednesdays from Netflix!
I thought hubby and I had this great relationship, one where we each give and take. One where we compromise and share our feelings to work out what's best for us or the family. One that is the absolute definition of love (are you picturing all of the fat red hearts that should be encircling this paragraph?)
And then he was gone last night and I had no idea what the heck to do with myself after the boys were in bed. I ALWAYS like to have time to myself. Surely I had plenty of good ideas in which to partake. But nothing was coming to me.
I started feeling sorry for myself. I felt I had no project nor undertaking that would be beneficial for just ME. Even though I've been wanting to pick up my guitar again, find time to write again, and listen to those Spanish learning Cd's again.
But let's be realistic here. It was 8:30 pm and I was ready to veg out. However no new Netflix movie had arrived. No new book had captured my attention. And there was no zoning out occurring because of the lack of cable TV. I had watched a little of the diving at the Olympics but I was in no mood that night for women's volleyball or for a gruesome murder show. Come on! I wanted to shout. It's Wednesday night! Can someone throw me a frigging bone here? (This last from Dr. Evil in Austin Powers.)
I took a shower and thought about the fact that hubby and I are going through a tremendous change in our relationship. However, not one where I am co-dependent. I hope not anyway.
He's started graduate school. He is going for a Master's of Business Administration 2nights a week for the next 2 years. This is wonderful! I'm really excited for him. Even though he may not agree because he doesn't like to think of himself as a business man, (or rather one who must dress appropriately to be in the line of business-he's just more comfortable in cargo shorts and his trademark paisley button-down) this program will suit him really well. He's a natural leader and does fabulously with communication (and he's a tech guy!) The MBA can only open more doors for him, whether at his present job or somewhere else.
Although, it's going to be tough. For Hubby, he will have to work all week, normal hours. And those 2 nights of "school" he will go straight from work to class. He will have studying to do as well. But if anyone can pull all of that off, it's him.
I know other people do this as well and come out of it with flying colors, like I know he will.
And me, well...a friend having gone through this exact scenario warned me that there was a "What about me?" feeling. She said one might question what she's doing at home when her partner is busy with both work and grad school. And the partner not in school may also feel a little left behind. And this came from a working mom! I just didn't expect that feeling to transpire the VERY FIRST night that hubby was gone, at orientation no less!
I think this will be good for both of us. We're going to have to figure out a good schedule for both of us, as well as time for both of us. I think I will need to find some good projects and some good books. And I am thinking of graduate school for me for the next year... I do think it will be important to ensure a good bloody movie has arrived on Mondays and Wednesdays from Netflix!
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Small moments
It was cold, wet, foggy, and rainy this past weekend in the middle of August in Fort Collins, Colorado. The high was 53 degrees Fahrenheit. In August! We were all happy it cooled off from the upper 90's of July but this...this was a little extreme on the cold front.
Nonetheless, early on Sunday morning, I woke up and decided our husky black lab Mexican wolf mixed dog named Zorro, deserved a long and tiring walk. He hadn't been getting as much exercise as a dog of his stature should be. Of course, the weather was not making this easy and neither was the fact that I had been a bit lazy on the walking front.
I loved how it was so quiet and that no one seemed to be out at 6:30 am on a Sunday. It was as if I had this strange fall-feeling-summer-looking town all to myself. We walked the 8 blocks or so to the neighborhood dog park and found no dogs nor humans there.
The dog park is nice because there is a track that surrounds the whole of it. I began my first lap as Zorro promptly made 3 large poos all in a row. I think he was very excited to have the dog park all to himself!
I was lost in thought about that whole difference between being alone and being lonely. I was enjoying being alone so much, as if I hadn't been alone in a very long time. Come to think of it, it HAD been a very long time. Summer had been busy with kids' activities. I felt like for the first time in a long time, my quiet time outside with the dog was finally my own time.
Of course, a lady showed up with 2 dogs on the opposite side of the dog park. I was feeling unjustifiably interrupted, as if someone walked in on me in my backyard dancing around and singing at the top of my lungs. But Zorro quickly hurried off to greet her dogs and smell their bums, obviously not feeling intruded upon.
As I caught up to the lady and the dogs, she told me how beautiful Zorro was. (He is in fact, a beautiful dog!) I heard and understood her, but realized that it was difficult to do so. I wasn't sure why this was at first but then as she and I continued walking the track together, as if we were old friends, I understood.
She was a plump lady, probably in her early 40's. She had short brown-ish hair streaked with gray. She wore glasses and sweat pants. She had a kind face and gentle eyes. She talked about getting her 4 and 7 year old dogs at the humane society and how often people don't want older dogs but she felt blessed to have these 2 great companions. We talked about Zorro and how we had had him as a 7 week old pup. She couldn't pronounce the 'Z' in his name. And when she told me one of her dogs names, I couldn't understand her. I thought she said "Thathie". She didn't seem embarrassed or shamed at having to tell me 2 more times before I realized her name was Sadie.
When she turned her head and wasn't looking at me, I asked her what she thought of all the rain we'd been having. She didn't answer.
A moment later she smiled kindly and told me it was really nice chatting and that she had to go. She called her dogs and off they went.
After she left, we had the park to ourselves again but it felt a little different this time. I ended up not feeling intruded upon at all, and indeed felt like I'd had one of those short but meaningful interactions. I talked to this woman for maybe 5 minutes but I was touched by what a sincerely nice person she was. She made my quiet time on a Sunday morning even more enjoyable, more relaxing, and more lovely just because of what kind of person she was, just because she was one of those people who is easy to be with. Who cared what her hair looked like or what she did for a living, or even if she could hear well. She was a real person who brought real joy with her to that dog park.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Getting Economically Stimulated to Properly Entertain Guests
I decided, when my family was here last week, that it was time to move. Our house is too small, I tell you. 1400 square feet is just not enough space to entertain properly! For a bigger house I decided I would use more gas to heat it, take more time to clean it, and pick a more undesirable neighborhood to live in it. (Because we just can't afford to live in Old Town and have a bigger house. Even disgusting, unkempt, no yard, cracks all over the wood floors, cigarette butts ground into the black and white vinyl kitchen floors, 1600 square foot homes in Old Town cost around $279K.) So I called my old realtor with the amazingly long hair that reaches her bum, and is fabulous at what she does, to show me what the heck is out there.
I picked 7 homes, only 1 in Old Town (mentioned above) and I liked none of them. (The one mentioned above being the absolute worst of them all-but hey! It's Old Town, perhaps we can buy it, tear it down, and rebuild for another, oh, I don't know? Say...$350K? No thank you.) Most were 1970's homes that had been partially remodeled. For instance, the kitchen had warm, lovely tile floors and a sparkling new fridge with an ice dispenser. However downstairs, through the dark wood paneled hallway were 3 small bedrooms with closets the sizes of w/c's on an airplane-except you couldn't actually go inside them. They had a small window in each and one small overhead light shaped like a globe. There was a border in one with baseball gloves, basketball hoops, and football helmets (or something of the like) that reminded me of my doctor's office.
Now, I realize there is potential for making these houses mine. I realized that we could change some of the things that bothered me. These houses WERE bigger after all. Although, you can't change the neighborhood.
The thing that struck me is that I really love my house. I fell in love with it the minute I saw it (kind of like when I saw hubby for the first time-when you know, you know!) It is a bit small, in that there's not a guest bedroom, no desk for our lap-top, and a small kitchen table is right next to the TV. But I love the way it feels inside. I love the wood floors and how light and airy it is. I love that I have a huge walk-in closet that probably takes up about 9 of the 14 hundred square feet of our house! I love our neighborhood on a hidden street with houses from the 1950's. I love that we can walk to the grocery store and that there is a park right behind us. And for crying out loud, who wants to clean a bigger house anyway? I can hardly stay on top of the little house, what am I thinking?? I haven't even mentioned the market! Holy Canoli! Who wants to sell a house in this age of declining prices? Am I even being realistic about it? Why am I even thinking about moving again?
Oh yeah, the space thing. Then it hit me just like that volleyball flying over the net in the 7th grade that got me SMACK in the face. I can change some of these things that bother me about MY house! We can move the TV out of the TV room so it's NOT right next to the table. Then put a little desk in the niche where the TV was. We could buy an armoire for the TV so we can actually close the doors on it and not have to see it if we don't want to. We can extend (or buy?!) our table so it's bigger and more folks can fit around it. Because when visitors visit, we often end up visiting around the table. Then there's our nasty couch that's looking worse everyday. We can buy a new couch and put it in the other room so the room where the table is, is just the dining room with the desk! Yes, Yes, YES!!! Oh, I feel like I've had a great vision! My head is so clear it's like a swimming pool inside!
Now to get hubby up to speed....we just need to get "economically stimulated" (in the words of my bike friend who just got stimulated economically) and it's a done deal!
I picked 7 homes, only 1 in Old Town (mentioned above) and I liked none of them. (The one mentioned above being the absolute worst of them all-but hey! It's Old Town, perhaps we can buy it, tear it down, and rebuild for another, oh, I don't know? Say...$350K? No thank you.) Most were 1970's homes that had been partially remodeled. For instance, the kitchen had warm, lovely tile floors and a sparkling new fridge with an ice dispenser. However downstairs, through the dark wood paneled hallway were 3 small bedrooms with closets the sizes of w/c's on an airplane-except you couldn't actually go inside them. They had a small window in each and one small overhead light shaped like a globe. There was a border in one with baseball gloves, basketball hoops, and football helmets (or something of the like) that reminded me of my doctor's office.
Now, I realize there is potential for making these houses mine. I realized that we could change some of the things that bothered me. These houses WERE bigger after all. Although, you can't change the neighborhood.
The thing that struck me is that I really love my house. I fell in love with it the minute I saw it (kind of like when I saw hubby for the first time-when you know, you know!) It is a bit small, in that there's not a guest bedroom, no desk for our lap-top, and a small kitchen table is right next to the TV. But I love the way it feels inside. I love the wood floors and how light and airy it is. I love that I have a huge walk-in closet that probably takes up about 9 of the 14 hundred square feet of our house! I love our neighborhood on a hidden street with houses from the 1950's. I love that we can walk to the grocery store and that there is a park right behind us. And for crying out loud, who wants to clean a bigger house anyway? I can hardly stay on top of the little house, what am I thinking?? I haven't even mentioned the market! Holy Canoli! Who wants to sell a house in this age of declining prices? Am I even being realistic about it? Why am I even thinking about moving again?
Oh yeah, the space thing. Then it hit me just like that volleyball flying over the net in the 7th grade that got me SMACK in the face. I can change some of these things that bother me about MY house! We can move the TV out of the TV room so it's NOT right next to the table. Then put a little desk in the niche where the TV was. We could buy an armoire for the TV so we can actually close the doors on it and not have to see it if we don't want to. We can extend (or buy?!) our table so it's bigger and more folks can fit around it. Because when visitors visit, we often end up visiting around the table. Then there's our nasty couch that's looking worse everyday. We can buy a new couch and put it in the other room so the room where the table is, is just the dining room with the desk! Yes, Yes, YES!!! Oh, I feel like I've had a great vision! My head is so clear it's like a swimming pool inside!
Now to get hubby up to speed....we just need to get "economically stimulated" (in the words of my bike friend who just got stimulated economically) and it's a done deal!
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Bumblebee and Darth Vader
The six year old turned seven this last weekend. My lovely parents came as did my sister and her (sort-of?) boyfriend. It was super fun, had a lovely time, good conversations, and was so glad to all be together. We laughed and joked and took walks, played a new board game, ate lots of sweet things like Cinnamon rolls from Vern's (the best in the world) and drank lots of yummy alcoholic beverages like coconut rum and Cabernet-Merlot mixes.
I did, of course, get stressed before everyone came. Cleaning, baking, cooking, and party organization can take up some time for doing and space for thinking. But once everyone was here it really was great.
The kiddos went bowling and it was so cute to see 3-7 year-olds shoving a big yellow ball down a ramp to the lane with the bumpers and then get a strike! They would high-five each other and say "YEAH!"
The 3 year old (who, from now on, I have decided to re-name (only in the blog of course!) "Darth Vader" because he LOVES Star Wars and Anakin/Darth Vader so darned much. He sings little songs on bike rides about Anakin turning to the dark side to the tune of the Darth Vader music. He knows which little "lightsaver" belongs to which action figure. "Oh no, Mama, that's the green one with stripes around the handle so it belongs to Luke. The green one with just one stripe belongs to General Grievous.") did a great job with the seven year old's birthday. I think it was a little hard for him to understand that he didn't get presents too. But he just played and sang and did his little Darth Vader thing and got more than 100 points bowling!
Bumblebee (formerly-known-as-the-six/seven-year-old who is as nuts about Transformers as the 3 year old is about Star Wars. He just loves the yellow camaro autobot who is as sweet in the movie as the seven year old is in real life. Might as well call him Bumblebee, right?) seemed to have a great time and enjoyed the festivities. He even told me he was thankful to me for putting it together!
I just can't believe he's seven. Darth Vader will be four in June. I thought I was the one who had the babies. I don't understand how they grow up so fast. Everyone tells you that too. It sounds like a no-brainer. In fact, one would think that a child growing up IS a no-brainer. But it freaks me out. It seems life picks up speed everyday. I don't believe I want more babies. The baby stage is hard but wonderful--there is nothing better than holding a sweet newborn. (Speaking of, my bed-rest friend is now infant-mom-friend with a week old beautiful baby boy. I got to hold him and it felt vaguely familiar holding such a small little guy, as if I was looking at a photo of myself 3 1/2 years ago with a newborn. But it also felt strangely odd, as though my boys were never that small. I felt a little awkward. How doest that happen so fast?) I guess one must really, really try to be in the moment. That moment disappears so quickly as if it were a fleeting dream in the early morning. I feel like this is just something I'm beginning to understand.
I did, of course, get stressed before everyone came. Cleaning, baking, cooking, and party organization can take up some time for doing and space for thinking. But once everyone was here it really was great.
The kiddos went bowling and it was so cute to see 3-7 year-olds shoving a big yellow ball down a ramp to the lane with the bumpers and then get a strike! They would high-five each other and say "YEAH!"
The 3 year old (who, from now on, I have decided to re-name (only in the blog of course!) "Darth Vader" because he LOVES Star Wars and Anakin/Darth Vader so darned much. He sings little songs on bike rides about Anakin turning to the dark side to the tune of the Darth Vader music. He knows which little "lightsaver" belongs to which action figure. "Oh no, Mama, that's the green one with stripes around the handle so it belongs to Luke. The green one with just one stripe belongs to General Grievous.") did a great job with the seven year old's birthday. I think it was a little hard for him to understand that he didn't get presents too. But he just played and sang and did his little Darth Vader thing and got more than 100 points bowling!
Bumblebee (formerly-known-as-the-six/seven-year-old who is as nuts about Transformers as the 3 year old is about Star Wars. He just loves the yellow camaro autobot who is as sweet in the movie as the seven year old is in real life. Might as well call him Bumblebee, right?) seemed to have a great time and enjoyed the festivities. He even told me he was thankful to me for putting it together!
I just can't believe he's seven. Darth Vader will be four in June. I thought I was the one who had the babies. I don't understand how they grow up so fast. Everyone tells you that too. It sounds like a no-brainer. In fact, one would think that a child growing up IS a no-brainer. But it freaks me out. It seems life picks up speed everyday. I don't believe I want more babies. The baby stage is hard but wonderful--there is nothing better than holding a sweet newborn. (Speaking of, my bed-rest friend is now infant-mom-friend with a week old beautiful baby boy. I got to hold him and it felt vaguely familiar holding such a small little guy, as if I was looking at a photo of myself 3 1/2 years ago with a newborn. But it also felt strangely odd, as though my boys were never that small. I felt a little awkward. How doest that happen so fast?) I guess one must really, really try to be in the moment. That moment disappears so quickly as if it were a fleeting dream in the early morning. I feel like this is just something I'm beginning to understand.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
The Gentle Warrior
I woke up before hubby this morning. He was laying on his back, his arms stretched out above him. We have these burgundy sheets on the bed and he looked so handsome and so peaceful wrapped in them. I remember years ago, also waking up beside hubby, but for one of the first times. I remember thinking, how did I find such a handsome man to sleep in my blue and yellow flowery sheets? I feel like a lucky lady today.
Today is the anniversary of the death of my uncle. He was 44, the father of 3, and was killed in a bombing in Namibia, Africa. It was 1984. My mother was 38, I was 7. Unfortunately, I don't remember him well. I know he was gentle, kind, and smart. He was my godfather. It was the first time I remember seeing my mom sobbing. She was devastated over her lost brother, who died too early. It was on the nightly news because he was in the foreign service. He was there trying to negotiate peace between Namibia and Zimbabwe, which were fighting at the time. He and his partner had stopped at a gas station to fill up. The whole station blew up as soon as they got out of the car. They think it was the act of guerrilla fighters who did not want peace in the country. My uncle and his partner were flown to a hospital in Germany. Neither made it. My cousins, who are twins, were 14 at the time. My other cousin was 11.
Soon after his death my whole family flew to Washington D.C. My mother, my aunt, my cousins, and my grandparents went to the White House and met President Reagan. He presented them with a medal of honor for my uncle's service and the American flag. Apparently, there is a wall in the State Department with his name on it, as well as his partner's, Kenneth G. Crabtree, for diplomats killed in service. His name was Dennis Whyte Keogh.
On the American Foreign Service Association memorial plaque list site my uncle is listed. http://www.afsa.org/plaquelist.cfm
I went to this site and was shocked at how many American heroes have died, been murdered, been assassinated, in other countries while trying to instill peace. It also makes me think of American soldiers, civilians and innocent folks who are killed in countries like Iraq everyday now. I feel ever so thankful that hubby and my boys were laying peacefully in their beds in our house today. I don't know what you do when you lose a father, mother, brother, sister, son, daughter, uncle, aunt, or friend, in war or peace, or anytime.
Uncle Den's kids, my cousins, had a very hard time. The twins used to go running with him. One of the twins promptly hurt her knee after his death and had a hard time with that leg for a long time. She stopped running for years. I believe she runs now though.
My other twin cousin began having epileptic seizures, soon after his death. She was involved with the theater, doing set work. But then she fell off a ladder when she had a seizure. She also fell off a bus once and got banged up badly. Friends and family began fundraising for her to have a dog who could sense when the seizures were coming. Her dog's name was Nikki, and she took that dog everywhere. She endured 15 years of seizures. She took medication, and I believe she still does. However she got married and wanted a child badly. She has a 2 year old now and hasn't had a seizure in 7 years!
I know my cousin who was 11 at the time, also had a rough time. I believe he didn't always tell the truth. He's married now too, with his own child and still lives in D.C.
I think it has always been hard for my mom. And for everyone who has lost someone close to them.
My uncle Den is buried at Arlington National Cemetery in Arlington, Virginia. His tombstone reads, "Gentle Warrior". This seems to be an exceptionally well suited name for him. For all of the gentle warriors out there, may peace be with you always.
Today is the anniversary of the death of my uncle. He was 44, the father of 3, and was killed in a bombing in Namibia, Africa. It was 1984. My mother was 38, I was 7. Unfortunately, I don't remember him well. I know he was gentle, kind, and smart. He was my godfather. It was the first time I remember seeing my mom sobbing. She was devastated over her lost brother, who died too early. It was on the nightly news because he was in the foreign service. He was there trying to negotiate peace between Namibia and Zimbabwe, which were fighting at the time. He and his partner had stopped at a gas station to fill up. The whole station blew up as soon as they got out of the car. They think it was the act of guerrilla fighters who did not want peace in the country. My uncle and his partner were flown to a hospital in Germany. Neither made it. My cousins, who are twins, were 14 at the time. My other cousin was 11.
Soon after his death my whole family flew to Washington D.C. My mother, my aunt, my cousins, and my grandparents went to the White House and met President Reagan. He presented them with a medal of honor for my uncle's service and the American flag. Apparently, there is a wall in the State Department with his name on it, as well as his partner's, Kenneth G. Crabtree, for diplomats killed in service. His name was Dennis Whyte Keogh.
On the American Foreign Service Association memorial plaque list site my uncle is listed. http://www.afsa.org/plaquelist.cfm
I went to this site and was shocked at how many American heroes have died, been murdered, been assassinated, in other countries while trying to instill peace. It also makes me think of American soldiers, civilians and innocent folks who are killed in countries like Iraq everyday now. I feel ever so thankful that hubby and my boys were laying peacefully in their beds in our house today. I don't know what you do when you lose a father, mother, brother, sister, son, daughter, uncle, aunt, or friend, in war or peace, or anytime.
Uncle Den's kids, my cousins, had a very hard time. The twins used to go running with him. One of the twins promptly hurt her knee after his death and had a hard time with that leg for a long time. She stopped running for years. I believe she runs now though.
My other twin cousin began having epileptic seizures, soon after his death. She was involved with the theater, doing set work. But then she fell off a ladder when she had a seizure. She also fell off a bus once and got banged up badly. Friends and family began fundraising for her to have a dog who could sense when the seizures were coming. Her dog's name was Nikki, and she took that dog everywhere. She endured 15 years of seizures. She took medication, and I believe she still does. However she got married and wanted a child badly. She has a 2 year old now and hasn't had a seizure in 7 years!
I know my cousin who was 11 at the time, also had a rough time. I believe he didn't always tell the truth. He's married now too, with his own child and still lives in D.C.
I think it has always been hard for my mom. And for everyone who has lost someone close to them.
My uncle Den is buried at Arlington National Cemetery in Arlington, Virginia. His tombstone reads, "Gentle Warrior". This seems to be an exceptionally well suited name for him. For all of the gentle warriors out there, may peace be with you always.
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