Friday, March 4, 2016

We Lost Another One...

"We lost another one."  I HATE this sentence.  I HATE that it makes me so sad...so angry...so helpless.  

"We lost another one."  I read in a text message from my dear Marine husband.  I've heard it too many times in the almost 8 years of married life we've lived beyond active duty. I'm lucky, I never heard that phrase during our active duty life.  I'm extremely lucky.

"We lost another one."  It makes me curse - out loud.  I am Pollyanna, the ever hopeful and positive girl, but not in moments like this.  Moments like this chip away at my heart.

"We lost another one." This time, it wasn't suicide...but all of the other times it was.  This time, it was a horrible accident cause by a drunk driver.  This time.  

"We lost another one." Suicide.  It's so complicated.  It is so much more than suicide.  

"We lost another one."  PTSD.  Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is a label thrown at veterans and active duty.  It scares civilians.  It scares military spouses for different reasons. Insane, violent crimes are explained away because the one committing the crimes has PTSD, which scares civilians.  Watch out for the crazy vet with PTSD.  The military spouse worries because PTSD means anger, lack of restful sleep, and irritability.  

"We lost another one."  Why?  How can we help?  How can I help?

"We lost another one."  Who?  What feels like an eternity passes before receiving an answer.  So far, no one from our inner most circle has been lost.  The demon gets closer.  It is only a matter of time before it reaches someone in my circle of acquaintances.  Right now, I'm lucky.  Luck runs out sooner or later... 

"We lost another one."  I pray.  I pray for the family of the one lost.  I pray for the ones in my circle of acquaintances who worry me.  I pray for the ones who worry me because I can sense the danger.  I pray every single time they come to mind.  Every. Single. Time. Lord, keep them safe.  Battle the demons with them. 

"We lost another one."  What can I do? How do I stop this from happening to another one?  I read.  I read about becoming a Marine (the psychology behind it), I read about combat, I read about adapting to life after active duty.  I read about PTSD and suicide.  

"We lost another one." I dream of owning a place with room for all of "my boys" to visit.  I dream of a reunion with all of them together at the same time.  Shenanigans and laughter would ensue.  The fire department might need to be on standby.  I'd video the whole thing.  Vets spending time with other vets, it helps.  Talking with each other, it helps.

"We lost another one."  How long before I hear this again?  I hope I never do.  Statistically, I most surely will.  #22Aday  #22toomany
 

"We saved another one."  This isn't something I'll most likely hear.  There are no statistics, no hash tags.  It doesn't make it any less powerful if it happens.  There is a fairly new non-profit organization I have been following on social media called Irreverent Warriors.  In a year, they've done wonders in the lives of vets.  In the video posted below, one of the co-founders if shown speaking to a group of active duty Marines about suicide and suicide prevention.  Take the time to watch this video.  It is the BEST explanation of this disease I have ever heard or read.  Click on the words "Suicide Prevention" to view the video

*Warning:  Warriors, all warriors not just the one pictured in the video, are rated at least PG-13.  Warriors drop F bombs and other curse words and talk about stuff you don't want your kids to hear.  Wait until the kids are in bed or wear your headphones to watch this video.

 Suicide PREVENTION

*Spoiler Alert* Watch the video before reading the rest.  Seriously, watch the video.  I know it takes times, it is worth it.  I promise.  Just, watch the video.

Danny O'Malley presents some interesting facts about the #22Aday statistic.  I had no idea it was 22 vets a day from only 21 states who reported statistics.  Yikes.  How many more are we losing a day?  Of those 22, 15 of them are 50 years or older?  Whoa.  To survive the demons for so long, to live a long life, and then to end it. Alone.  Danny says he isn't an expert, he's merely speculating when he discusses this hypothetical 50+ year old veteran committing suicide, the circumstances certainly make sense. 

Danny O'Malley and the Irreverent Warriors organization can say "We saved another one."  The silkies hikes are helping.  The connections to other vets are saving lives.  We will never know how many.  Honestly, it doesn't matter.  As long as "we lost another one" becomes a phrase I hear less and less, I'll be overjoyed.  We saved another one.

Sunday, December 15, 2013

More Than Mittens

It's been so long since I've written here...this particular thought just has to be shared.  Many of you know I manage a Pandora store.  It has been the most fun I've had at work and it has literally sucked the life out of me at times.  I guess anything worth doing will do that to you.  Anyhow, I learned over the summer that Pandora would be releasing a charm and I proceeded to count down the days until it could be mine.  The whole idea behind a Pandora charm bracelet is to commemorate the special moments in your life.  Until now, I thought I was doing just that-and making it look pretty too.  I have a love letter, it symbolizes the many, many, many letters my sweet husband and I have exchanged over the years-mostly the Marine Corps years of course.  It symbolizes the hardships of being apart for long periods of time and the joy of sweet reunions.  I enjoy wearing it on my bracelet.  I have a turtle, because it was my husband's nickname in high school and my temporary engagement ring was a turtle ring.  I love having it on my bracelet too.  This new charm is different.  It symbolizes so much more.  What could mean more than Love? 


Mittens!  I adore mittens.  I may or may not have a pair attached by a string that fit my grown up hands.  Mittens aren't just something to keep your hands warm.  They're memories of family, fun, and love.

Mittens mean winters spent bundled up enjoying the snow...

 (with cousins or siblings)
or just bundled up...


I always felt so fancy wearing this frivolous fancy fur coat.No need for mittens with the warm pockets.


Mittens mean times spent with family.  Nana's house was always a great place to gather. 
 

Mittens mean Nana and Nana's house.  When there was enough snow for sledding we would gather our layers of snow gear (Southern friends this means: snow pants, snow boots, heavy jackets, heavy socks, at least two pairs of gloves because the outer layer would get wet, and spare socks for when we came inside) and head to Nana's house.  Her house had prime sled riding hills.  There is an art to climbing on the sled at the top of the hill so it doesn't start sliding down before you are ready.  If you didn't, you might end up half in the sled and half out flying down the hill.  Laughter always ensued.  Mittens mean laughter.  

After we were too cold and tired to continue, we would head inside and take off the many layers of snow gear.  We would hang it up over heating vents to dry and Nana would make hot chocolate.  Nestle Quik hot chocolate to be exact.  Nestle Quik hot chocolate in cute Nestle Bunny mugs with Nestle Bunny spoons.  Mittens mean hot chocolate.


(I had to Google search and find these images.  People are selling these for a ridiculous amount of money.  I guess some memories have no price.)

Mittens mean cousins.  Lots of cousins.  I couldn't find a picture of us all bundled up enjoying the snow so this picture will have to do.  It makes me laugh how tightly Rebecca is holding my hand.  Cousins make excellent snow playing, sled riding friends.





Sisters make excellent sled riding, snow playing friends too.  They also make great ice skating friends too.  You might want mittens to ice skate too.  (If you're up North anyhow.)




Mittens mean Christmas.  These mittens are my favorite.  I remember seeing a pair on our tree every year growing up.  I also remember a pair on my grandma's tree as well.  Several years ago on a visit to her house, I told her they were one of my favorite ornaments.  My grandma unbeknownst to me, sent them home with my boyfriend at the time.  When we got back home, he gave them to me and said my grandma sent them.  I adore putting them on my tree every year and smile each time.  They remind me of how my grandma spoiled me, even as a grown up.  Mittens mean time spent with grandma.  Mittens mean decorating Easter eggs too.  My grandma and I had a yearly tradition of decorating Easter eggs.  A tradition I would continue if I didn't live so terribly far away.   





So this charm isn't just a pair of mittens that adorn my bracelet.  These mittens are memories.  Memories of Christmas, memories of family, memories of snow, memories of laughter, and memories of love.  






Monday, September 3, 2012

A Trip to the Beach

I thought I would ring in 2013 without visiting the beach with my sweetie.  The new job has made my schedule very busy.  Busy is good, but it leaves very little time for my thoughts to form into coherent sentences for blogging-let alone vacation time.  However, the new job is actually the thing that brought me to the beach this year.  We have a store in Sarasota, they needed a little help in between store managers...so off to Sarasota I went. 

I've never been to Sarasota before.  It is a sweet little city.  Very easy to navigate, very easy.  However, there seem to be a lot of Yankees in this town.  I mean true Yankees-New York, Massachusetts type Yankees.  I'd be classified as a mid-westerner here...  I realized I've been in the South for a long time now.

I've had time to buy a new dress, buy new shoes, and relax a little.  (All at bargain prices of course!)  Peace and quiet.  Time all alone, until Saturday that is.  I arrived very late Tuesday night, went to the store on Thursday to work, grabbed dinner and came back to the hotel to enjoy the quiet.  Friday, same thing.  Saturday off to work, to the airport to get the husband, and then time to enjoy being on a sort of vacation with my sweetie.  I may work so much that it makes me so tired I could cry, but it is pretty cool that my boss flew my husband to FL so we could spend the holiday weekend together.  We went to St. Armand's to walk the circle and enjoy some of the cool little tourist boutiques.  Then we grabbed some dinner.  Sunday I didn't have to go to the store at all. We slept in.  It was soooo wonderful.  We ate a late breakfast/lunch.  We grabbed some snacks at the store....until FINALLY it was beach time.  Awesome!  It was a holiday weekend, so we paid $10 to park in a lot instead of parking for free in the public parking lot and the beach was full.  I freakin' love the beach.  I don't care how busy it is.  We stayed for about two hours before we decided it was time to go shower and grab dinner.  We dined at a cool little place called Walt's Seafood Market.  The waiter gave me an awesome recommendation, since seafood isn't this Ohioan's favorite food group.  I ate red snapper, blackened (read cajun spicy) and it was delicious!  Totally worth the money.  If you end up in Sarasota, make sure you eat there.  If you're there on a Sunday, sit outside at the Tikki bar and perhaps Jeremy will be your waiter.

Today, it was back to work at the store.  After work the husband and I headed to the outlet mall not far from the store.  I found super cute comfy shoes at a fabulous sale price. (Can you say Kenneth Cole Reaction for $30?)  I'm talking 8 hour retail shift shoes here.  Unheard of, I know.  After leaving the outlets we decided to head to the beach for one last walk.  It was pretty dark since the moon was hiding behind the clouds this evening.  We had a flashlight thanks to my always prepared Eagle scout Marine.  (No joke, he was an Eagle scout too.)  I could live at the beach...except for hurricane season I guess.  I don't have a great track record with the beach and hurricanes. 

Later this week the husband and I will celebrate 7 years of marriage.  It seems like yesterday we were starting our journey together.  I hope it always feels like it was yesterday.  (Yes, there are some days I get frustrated with him.  Like yesteray when he was throwing popcorn on the sand to attract the seagulls and people around us were staring.  I was giving him the death look.  He was laughing like a little boy, because that is what Marines do.  They do silly things that little boys do and their wives roll their eyes.)  That same Marine is sound asleep on the bed next to me lightly snoring now.  He looks so harmelss when he sleeps...until you accidentally scare him awake.  Whoops.  (I didn't really scare him awake just now, but I know you better be wary if you do.)  So in case I don't blog later in the week-I have a feeling when I get back home I won't have time anyhow, I Love my Marine and wouldn't change a minute of our story together.  I look forward to the next year together and hopefully many more after that. 

Seven years later this northern teacher (turned retail goddess) is still in Love with her sweet, southern Marine :)  Love always has a capital letter after falling in Love with you Bivins.

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Feeling Patriotic

My little guilty pleasure, once very two weeks, is to go and get a manicure  and pedicure.  Sometimes I let myself feel guilty over spending the money, but I typically justify it by the fact that I work hard.  It is one of the few things I do just for me.  If I wasn't paying someone to do it for me, it would be one more thing on my list of things to do. 

Yesterday was mani/pedi day.  I had the wonderful pleasure of sharing the nail salon with a very sweet lady, probably in her 70's, who gave me a glimpse into my future...  She was there to get her nails done.  She told the nail tech that she wanted something red, white, and blue.  With summertime coming she said it was time for something that looked patriotic.  *Sound like anyone you know?*  She ended up choosing red polish, and then on her ring fingers she had them do a blue and white swirl design.  She kept asking if they were going to add lots of sparkles (rhinestones) to her nails, because she "just loves sparkles."  The nail tech added about 8 sparkles to each of her decorated ring fingers.  They were beautifully gaudy and patriotic.  I adored them.  When I am 70 I vow to have patriotic sparkly nails too.  Hopefully by then I just won't care who sees my gaudy patriotic nails.  Right now I'm still to self conscious to sport them.  (It doesn't help that they are against the dress code at work.) 

In other news, Memorial Day just occurred.  It always makes me reminiscent of the days I could gather all my boys together for a day or night to feed them dinner and find mischief.  It also makes my heart ache because it is a day to remember the families left behind from those who paid the ultimate price for freedom.  I'm oddly lucky, all of my boys came home...but I know several of their brothers in arms did not.  I know they each have a different reason that Memorial Day is special to them.  I do my small part in bringing out my patriotism via red, white and blue.  My husband summed up my Memorial Day (and every day) job best in his toast...  He said my job is to love my veteran for all of the wives who can't love theirs.  He's right.  It is one of the things that active duty life teaches you, every moment spent together is special.  It doesn't matter if you're doing laundry, or heaven forbid you have to grocery shop together; each moment together is special because you never know what tomorrow will bring.  I think that mindset is a great philosophy for life.  So many times happiness is about choosing to make the best of it, not letting things get you down, in order to be happy.  Time with loved ones is always a commodity in this world.  I encourage you to do your part, be purposeful in planning to spend time with those you love. 

Memorial Day also makes me homesick for life in D.C.  I'll be forever thankful that I had some time to live in the heart of our country.  The air itself is different there. (Smoggy is what it is, but it makes me feel invigorated-could be a lack of oxygen or something.)  D.C. does Memorial Day and 4th of July up in style.  If I could wear red, white, and blue everyday I would.  I'm that girl.  I think my blood is American flag patterned with a touch of glitter.  I like to remember the pomp and circumstance of the ceremonies and monuments.  The National Mall is a peaceful place full of energy, especially on a warm sunny day.  I wish I had taken more time to grab a blanket, grab a good book, and head to the National Mall to spend the afternoon reading and people watching.  Hindsight is 20/20.  I would have done a lot more, had I been more independent then.  Several metro rides in a month I'd pass by the Arlington Cemetery metro stop.  It always brought about a somber mood in me.  The air itself felt like it was grieving.  I'm incredibly proud of my husband and his service to our country.  His role was an important one.  I wouldn't trade our time in D.C. for all the gold in the world.  What good is gold if you lose some of the best memories of your life?

Today's Message: Enjoy your life.  Spend time with loved ones.  Be mindful of all that others have sacrificed so that you may do those two things.

Today's Secondary Message: Sparkly red, white and blue nails should be fashionable at any age, but if you're in your 70's they ROCK!

Monday, January 2, 2012

Bittersweet

We (Dave really) received a present for Christmas that neither of us ordered.  We knew this present would arrive before too long as time passes regardless of whether we recognize it or not.  Time passes a little quicker than we thought and the day arrived.  He received his Honorable Discharge certificate from the USMC.  Many of you saw this picture posted on my facebook, but here it is once again in case you'd like a closer look.


When we arrived at my in laws house after Christmas Eve service my mother in law let me know that there were two pieces of mail for Dave.  I looked at them, momentarily puzzled, and then I knew.  I knew it was the official end to his time with the USMC.  I smiled, but it was a bittersweet moment.  I waited until after we ate dinner before showing it to Dave.  He opened it with a grin, but I know we both felt the tug of sadness too.  It signifies the end of some of the greatest years of our life.  We both have memories, stories, and friendships that will last us a lifetime.  Thankfully, we're part of the USMC family forever now.  I'm terribly proud of his service.  I'm thankful I was blessed with so many great friends during his service, but especially during his deployment.  The BLT 3/8 wives I met were amongst the best and I will forever cherish them.  I don't think I realized how special they were at the time, I just knew I loved them.  Life beyond the Marine Corps is good too, but I miss being an active part of the USMC family.  Now we get to figure out how to support our fellow family members beyond the realm of active and inactive duty. 

Some of my favorite USMC memories:
1. Bootcamp Graduation.  I had no idea at the time I would be married to a Marine just a year later.  I marvel at the fact I was able to see my future husband graduate boot camp even though I didn't know his name at the time.  I met him after graduation when he was headed back to his family, and just barely remember the meeting.  Two months later I would be spending hours on the phone with him.

2. Iwo Sunset Parade & Friday Night Parades.  I only saw the sunset parade once, but my darling husband (fiance then) was part of the firing party.  A Marine doing what he loves to do is a fine thing to see.  The Friday Night Parades were so much fun as well.  You simply must see one.  Seriously.  

3.Marine Barracks Washington.  Thanks to this wonderful duty station.  I had so much fun living in DC for 9 months.  Days spent walking along the National Mall with my husband.  Public transportation so I didn't have to drive, thank you DC metro & Fairfax Connector buses.  Close proximity to pretty much anything.  Safeway grocery stores, you are a goddess among grocers.  Pentagon City Bath & Bodyworks ladies circa 2006, you made me feel welcome and gave me girlfriends when I was constantly surrounded by boys.

4.Camp Lejeune, NC aka Marine Corps Land.  You gave me close proximity to the beach.  Introduced me to Duplin County Wine, the wine of the gods.  You showed me just how awesome the USMC family really is-from the Battalion Commander's wife on down the ranks I was welcomed with open arms.  You introduced me to the hardships of deployment, while sparing me the worry of combat deployments.  I had one year of teaching that was hellish and one year of teaching that was truly a blessing through some very long days.  Did I mention close proximity to the beach?

5. Life beyond active duty USMC.  It has shown me the pure joy of encountering a fellow member of the USMC family.  It has shown me my deepest desire is to do all I can to support those still in the active duty realm, as well as those beyond it.  I just have to figure out exactly what that looks like...
Thank you so much for the memories USMC!  You'll always hold a special place in my heart.

A Beautiful Day at the Range

We have been experiencing some wonderfully mild winter weather here in Alabama so far.  I'm not bragging, I'm just saying it has been nice-even if it seems odd to have a Christmas tree up in 60 degree weather.  Saturday was a gorgeous day, making it perfect range weather.  I'm very blessed in the fact that I am included in the "boys club" at my house.  What probably began from necessity has grown into something I enjoy a lot.  My husband and his friends have always accepted my presence during their boy time.  It began in DC when I was far from my friends and family in Ohio and by the time we reached NC I wouldn't trade hanging out with the boys for anything.  They make me laugh so hard my cheeks hurt, they make my heart swell with pride, and they torment me relentlessly at times-but always show me respect as well.  I feel honored to be part of their group.  I accept the privilege and recognize it as such.

Saturday I was able to enjoy an afternoon at the range with two of my favorite Marines.  (Ok, so I really don't think I've spent time with a Marine I wouldn't consider a favorite of mine.)  My darling husband and Jordan let me use of some of their range time.  I was looking forward to range day all week.  Seriously.   It might have something to do with the fact that for Christmas my husband gave me something he knew I would love, a CZ, and a pink pistol bag to cart it to and from the range.  Be still my heart, that man knows how to spoil a girl.  (Who is this girl, right?)  His friend Matt, who was missed at range day, gave me the second best present-M frame Oakley glasses!  I think we should have recorded my reaction to opening those on Christmas Day.  I was extremely excited.  Why? Because when you have to wear ear protection for hours at the range along with ballistic eye protection you can get a headache when the ear pieces of the glasses are thick and smashed against your head.  I borrowed Dave's M frames the last time we went to the range and they made my range experience so much better.  Then to top off the range day anticipation my husband gave me a .22 rifle for my birthday.  Wooooohoooo!!  Like most things in my life I learned the art of shooting backwards from the typical shooter.  Most shooters learn to shoot .22 rifles or pistols first and then move on to shooter higher calibers.  I learned how to shoot 9mm first and just recently learned how to shoot a .22 rifle.  I enjoyed it so much that Dave decided he would continue the spoiling streak and buy me one for my birthday.  Here is a pic of me and my newest love...


Out of a box of 525 rounds I shot probably 250 of them.  It was a nice workout for my weak muscled arms.  The only reason I put the rifle down was because we ran out of ammo about the time my arms were feeling wobbly.  Doesn't this look like fun?


I also had a conversation shortly after Christmas with Dave as we were wandering the aisles of the Piggly Wiggly one evening.  (I live in Alabama, ok?  I've grown to enjoy shooting and I shop at the Piggly Wiggly when necessary.)  He asked me if I had named my CZ yet, because it wasn't mine until I named it.  I love the CZ and quickly said "Pearl."  He just laughed and said, "really?"  I said "sure, why not?  I mean I could think up something else..."  He said "No, you should go with the first thing that comes to mind.  I just think of an old southern lady with a big hat on and an umbrella, the kind used to shade you from the sun not for rain.  The kind of old southern lady that will beat you with her umbrella."  I said "perfect."  (Doesn't she sound intimidating?)  He then asked if I had named my conceal & carry weapon.  I said "how about Minnie?"  Dave said "why didn't you just leave the tags on them, Minnie Pearl?"  I just giglged.  I like Minnie and Pearl.  Minnie is pink by the way so I think it suites her.  Fast forward a few days to receiving the .22 rifle for my early birthday present.  Dave asks me what I'm going to name the .22.  Mom says I should name it Buck Owens and stay with the Hee Haw theme.  I decided to name it Roger.  It sounds great.  So I am the proud owner of Minne, Pearl, and Roger.  Together, we had a wonderful day at the range.

I can hardly wait to get back to the range and shoot some more.  Unfortunately, we're experiencing some colder temps this week..you know 30's and 40's, which is a little more seasonably appropriate.  Not terribly cold, but it doesn't make for as much fun on the range.  So instead I'll find other things to do.  Not sure exactly what...maybe take down the tree, organize my room/closet, or maybe just waste the day reading a good book.

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

I remember...

Perfectly Imperfect is another title I thought about for this particular entry, but really it is about what I remember.  What is it that matters the most, that I hold on tightly to in my mind? 

There has been a lot of wedding talk around here recently and it made me reflect a lot about my own wedding proposal, our wedding, and our life we've built together.  (I have a friend who may be having a wedding very soon and her friends and I are trying to help her plan so we can pull it together at a moments notice.  When you fall in love with a Marine you can say goodbye to being able to plan anything...)  I'm about to take a trip down memory lane so if you're not interested then you may go back to your regularly scheduled programming.

The Proposal: Which one would you like to hear about?  Technically there is more than one.  Bivins first proposed during Airport Rendezvous Weekend in February 2005.  He asked me to marry him Sunday morning.  I said yes.  Then he called my mom and sisters to ask their permission.  I went home and he mailed me a turtle ring to wear.  The second time he asked me was in July 2005.  I had flown to DC to meet his parents and he had purchased a diamond solitaire ring.  We were in his room at the barracks and I was sitting at his desk.  He knelt down beside me with the box and simply said "marry me?"  I remember them both vividly.  They weren't elaborate.  It was simply a man asking the woman he loves to marry him.  I'm so glad he did!

The Wedding:  It was the on again off again wedding...not the actual wedding part, but the when and the where part.  We wanted to be married before he left DC because we knew he would go to a deploy-able unit once he left the barracks.  (Deploy-able means a unit set to deploy, not to be confused with deplorable.  That word doesn't exist in the Marine Corps.)  We also were trying to figure out a cost effective wedding plan with people from two different states-Alabama and Ohio.  I don't know if you've looked at a map recently, but they aren't exactly side by side.  Can you say nightmare?  Ok, maybe not a nightmare for everyone but I wasn't excited at the prospect of planning something.  Throw in the ever changing Marine Corps schedule and I had an ulcer before we even began talking.  So we began hatching the Augtember plan.  I can't tell you how it began...something about getting married on the beach when we came to Alabama to visit during his post parade season leave.  The logistics of that kinda made me freak out so we altered the plan to get married in the lobby of his godfather's law office.  There were other details to sort out, but here is what I remember...

I remember shopping with my mother for the perfect outfit to wear on my wedding day.

I remember shopping with my mother and picking out the satiny ribbon, lace, and red white and blue button she used to make a garter. 

I remember hopping on the plane to fly to Dulles and meet up with my Marine so we could fly together to Alabama and get married. (Ok, technically we flew into Atlanta and Mr. B picked us up and drove us to AL.)

I remember telling Mr. B in the car that the wedding was back on for this weekend.

I remember telling Bonnie that the wedding was back on for this weekend when we met her at Sal's for dinner.  (This was when Sal's was in Odenville.)

I remember going to church the Sunday before our wedding and meeting everyone at CPC.  I received sooooo many hugs from people that I know cherish as friends and family.

I remember getting ready to meet with Burt on Sunday afternoon for a brief premarital counseling session and praying he would agree to marry us on Tuesday.  (If he hadn't agreed we wouldn't have married then.  To me, it would have meant it wasn't God's time for us to marry.)

I remember Bonnie asking me if I was sure I wanted a simple wedding.  She wanted to make sure I wouldn't regret not having a white dress, family, etc.  I told her I wanted a simple wedding.  (I thanked her this past Friday for planning such a beautiful small affair.  I told her I'm so glad we did it that way.  No regrets!)

I remember Lori Booth decorating the carrot cake Bonnie made for our wedding.  She did such a wonderful job.  I couldn't have picked a prettier cake if I had tried.

I remember getting up bright and early Tuesday morning and riding to the courthouse in Pell City to get our marriage license. (Mr B. and Bonnie made a frantic run to Sam's and I have no idea where else to grab stuff for a mini reception.)

I remember going to the flower shop to order a small bouquet.  I ended up with three pink roses and a calla lily with the stems wrapped in ribbon. 

I remember reading the letter my mother e-mailed me for my wedding day. 

I remember taking a nap on my wedding day.  We were so tired from a busy weekend of visiting in Alabama and we were up early to get our license. 

I remember Mr. B and Dave leaving to take half of the stuff to Curtis' office and swinging by to get the flowers.

I remember gathering my things to do get ready at the office and riding in to Birmingham with Bonnie. 

I remember a trucker and Bonnie exchanging friendly honks that translated into Semper Fidelis.  The truck and Bonnie's car were both sporting Marine Corps stickers.

I remember curling my hair and applying my own make-up.

I remember carefully getting dressed and asking Wendy Russell if I should wear the heart necklace Bivins gave me.  She said if he gave it to me I should definitely wear it.  She also tied the lovely bow at the back of my top.

I remember walking down a hallway holding JT Gosnell's arm and at the very end of that hallway and across the lobby was the man of my dreams-dreams I didn't even know I had at the time.

I remember marrying Bivins around 6:30pm on a Tuesday evening.


I remember it being one of the best days of my life...

Saturday, August 6, 2011

4th of July 2011

By now it shouldn't be any secret that I adore the 4th of July.  I was destined for the role as a Marine's wife.  After one facebook status post a friend of mine who is also a Marine's wife told me I was the proudest Marine wife she knew.  I'll gladly accept that.  I Love my Marine.  I'm proud of his role in our nation's story and the role his fellow Marine brothers have had-now and in the past.  I'm proud of every veteran's role in our nation's story.

*I wrote this first paragraph and have attempted to come back to this post several times this past month, but have been unable to gather my thoughts about my 4th this year.  I'm finally coming back to it and am determined to finish this post.

A few weeks before the 4th I heard Toby Keith's song "Made in America" driving home from work late one night.  I loved it!  I was hooked the minute I heard the line "Semper Fi tattoed on his left arm" and then it got even better when I heard about the old man's wife who "teaches school and decorates for the 4th of July, but says every day is Independence Day."  Bivins has Semper Fi tattoed on his left arm...and we know I taught school and adore the 4th of July.  I also cried watching the official video to the song.  I love the pictures of the families celebrating the 4th of July and their family.  Proud doesn't even come close to describing it. 

Every year I anxiously count down to the 4th of July.  The past two years I have been able to be off from work.  I'll work every other holiday throughout the year, just don't make me work the 4th.  Seriously.  On the 3rd of July Dave and I spent the day together...we ended the day by stopping by the fireworks super store picking out what pretty fireworks we would set off at the house.  This is a recent tradition.  The first time we set off fireworks was in Jacksonville, NC with the boys a week or so prior to their deployment.  Last year we bought a few more fireworks and set them off in the back yard.  This year Bivins was the master of our fireworks show.  The Sharp family, Tilly, and I gathered at the end of their sidewalk to watch the master at work.  It was a wonderful show.  A little scary at times because I thought that some of the fireworks were going to come back and hit the spectators, but still great.  A thunderstorm came rolling in so we had to have our grand finale a bit before we used up all of the fireworks, yet it was fun.  Fun, fun, fun.  I went to bed a happy girl.

I woke up very early on the 4th of July because the kitchen demo team, Bivns and Mr. B, began tearing out the lower cabinets at 7:30am.  Ewww.  A month later I can say the kitchen is looking great, but that morning I was a lil' grumpy about being awake.  They worked on putting in the new cabinets until about 3pm.  Then it was time to get ready for the fireworks show at American Village.  Then in rolled another thunderstorm.  I began texting Tilly and Crissy to find out how things were going at American Village because we didn't want to drive an hour just to find out the show was canceled.  Matt came over so he could go with us.  He was feeling a little bit reluctant about going, but I really didn't give him a choice.  He MUST go celebrate my favorite holiday with us.  They say the show is still on, so we pile into the car and off we go. 

Nothing makes me happier than an adventure with my boys, but an adventure on the 4th of July was fabulous.  We arrived at American Village to find out the rain had stopped and admission was free because of the bad weather!!  Wooohooo!  (Admission is normally free for veterans and $5 for everyone else.)  We met up with the Sharps, Postons, and Lowery's so we could scout out our viewing location on the green.  We set up our chairs and then Bivins, Matt and I were off to explore the grounds until closer to fireworks time.  There was a moment in walking the grounds that I was teensy bit worried, they shot off a cannon and the boys weren't prepared for it.  When it went off I immediately turned and looked at the boys to see if they were going to be ok.  We continued walking and their heart rates returned to normal and their muscles relaxed.  We had a great discussion during our walk as well.  We discussed the fact that coming home from the military is hard to do.  You go from being in a place where everyone understands you to a place where sometimes people fear you.  The same people you fought so hard to protect.  Matt said something about being just another grain of sand on the beach, and Dave said something about not being sand, but being a shell tossed around in the ocean, and I said something about there being people like me that scour the sand and pick up shells to collect.  I truly cherish all of my boys.  I respect them.  I'm proud of them.  We were still walking around when one of my favorite parts of the American Village program began. First, they presented the colors, the Pledge of Allegiance is said, and the National Anthem is sung.  I wanted to smack some adults and children for their lack of respect during this portion of the program.  I restrained myself and watched my Marine and our soldier friend do the same.  Then the Montevallo Community Band plays a Salute to America's Military Veterans and during each service's song those military veterans present are supposed to stand and be recognized.  This year I was blessed to stand between a soldier and a Marine during this tradition.  Then there was another song, "Duty, Honor, Country" which again made me proud that I was standing between a soldier and a Marine.  One of my favorite lines from this song is "the American man at arms above all other people prays for peace, for he must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of war" and those lines are followed by the first few notes of Taps.  My teary eyes looked from soldier to Marine and back again.  Their posture changed and I knew their minds were lost in memories.  Shortly after that song we walked back to our seats and began to wait for darkness to creep in so the fireworks show could begin.  It was a lovely show indeed.  I was fascinated by the lovely colors.  There was one particular firework that looked like a container of glitter just exploded in the sky.  Delightful!  Both of my boys seemed to enjoy the show.  There were a few tough moments, but we had so much fun.  I'm proud of my boys and I'll shout it from the rooftops if needed.  Although, did you know my family is rather accident prone and I probably shouldn't try to get on a roof? 

We drove home after the show and I played with some sparklers in the driveway.  Bivins took some pictures, but because of the rain and hunidity they were really smoky and hard to see.  This picture made me laugh though...

 
I hope you enjoyed your 4th of July.  I hope you remembered the cost of freedom during your celebration, because our country began with a bloody battle for Independence and we've been battling for it ever since. Not all battle wounds are visible to the eye...

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Time With the Boys

It is no secret that I thrive on time spent with the boys.  (If you didn't know this, are we friends?  Have you read anything I've posted before?  Do I know you?)  Never in a million years did I think I'd ever be saying I thrive on time spent with the boys, but I do.  It makes my heart happy to have a bunch of boys over and listen to their crazy shenanigans.  We recently started watching Sons of Anarchy.  I absolutely adore this show.  Bad boys, vigilante justice, taking care of family, bikes, leather, the list goes on and on.  I turn into a child when I watch tv.  I keep begging Dave to let me have a biker gang now.  If I was a little lighter and could get away with it I'd dress like Gemma.  I love that she is the mother hen of the group of misfits.  She has given me the term "family dinner."  I know lots of people have family dinners with their blood relatives, but her family dinner means a dinner with the biker gang family.  My "family dinner" will henceforth be my group of boys, whoever that happens to be at the time.  My group of boys evolves a little each year.  It also depends on who is available and in the area.

Our tradition began in the good ol' USMC.  The first year we were married we spent Easter in DC and had Bynum and Martin over.  It was a fun time.  Favorite memories include: the jug of wine which tasted horrible and now that it is empty serves as our change collection jar and the two candlesticks that are still covered in wax from the boys getting bored and playing with the candles.  It is from this first gathering that the tradition has evolved.  Every time we stayed at our duty station for a holiday instead of driving home we would invite boys over to enjoy the holiday with us.  We have continued this tradition here in Alabama too.  We gathered at the in-laws house for Easter and it made my heart happy to have some boys over to enjoy the day with us. 
Our Easter tree at the in-laws.  Cute, huh?
We had a wonderful dinner and great desserts.  The boys definitely didn't go hungry.  I'd say they enjoyed it...

Post dinner nap time.
I spent the day how I always do when my boys get together~behind the camera trying to catch the best moments on film.  If there is a video involved then I am laughing as it records.  My boys are the best...even if they argue about being boys and insist they are grown men.  They may be grown men, but to me they'll always be boys at heart.  Spend 5 minutes with them and I dare you to disagree.  They know I love each of them dearly.

Another event with the boys was The Schaeffer Eye Center Crawfish Boil.  They do boil crawfish, and the boys ate some, but mostly it is an excuse to gather in downtown Birmingham to pay too much for beer and watch great artists and mediocre artists perform.  It is a two day event, although we only went Friday night despite my begging to go see Nelly Saturday night.  I heard something about me being old and ghetto for liking Nelly.  *Let's pause while I sing Ride With Me and relive memories of me driving the Toyota Corolla with beads hanging from the rear view mirror.  Ok, we can move on now.*  What lured me in to the Crawfish Boil was that Sublime featuring Rome (their new lead singer) would be performing.  Dave and I have seen a Sublime tribute band play a couple of times and thoroughly enjoyed it so we couldn't pass up a chance to catch the real deal (sorta).  Sublime was cool, but they played a lot of newer songs instead of the good ol' songs we love.  Overall, great performance and the new stuff sounded great, but I missed some of my oldies, but goodies.  Dave was stoked that Weezer would be performing.  Oh my goodness did I have a blast!  I knew I knew Weezer's songs, but until they came out on stage I had kind of forgotten who they were.  The opening number, Hashpipe, played and I was like "oh, I remember these guys they're really cool."  Weezer put on a fantastic show.  I should mention this show was the week the tornadoes had come through Alabama.  The tornadoes hit on a Wednesday and the concert was Friday.  The Crawfish Boil was taking up donations for the Red Cross at the event and all of the performers made sure to let us know they wanted us to have a good time.  Weezer showed us they meant what they said.  I would definitely go see them perform again.  Really cool.  Here is my newest favorite pic of Dave and I.

And one more of me and one of the boys.

Our most recent adventure was a night with the boys during Memorial Day weekend.  A friend that is now a Marine was able to come home for the weekend and we invited Matt over for some of the fun too.  In true "time with the boys" style we had a blast.  I came out from the bathroom to find this:


Boy can't be left alone.  I know this, yet I do it every time.  Lucky for me they only used up all my tin foil and didn't burn down the house or anything.  Life is an adventure, live it up, and have lots of laughs.

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Made a Leap

I've been debating my future career paths.  Do I want to continue in retail?  It sure is fun.  I can take any day of the week off and the business runs smoothly.  No worries.  The down side is of course all those night and weekend shifts.  I get very little accomplished beyond work when I end up with a bunch of closing shifts in the same week.  Still no work at home though, it all gets done at the store.  Do I want to attempt to go back to school?  I think our house needs only 1 person in school and right now that person is Dave.  Also, I think I need to do a little more research about what degree I would like to pursue.  Social Work? Counseling?  Library Science? Who knows... Do I go back to teaching?  I've reached the point where I kind of miss it. 

This is what my furry boys saw last night:

Zeke says " Momma what is going on?  This thing is shooting paper everywhere."

  
I updated my online application for Teach in Alabama.  It is a website that the vast majority of school systems in Alabama use to post vacancies and accept applications.  Mine is officially up-to-date and available for schools to search.  I've clicked on the apply link for two different generic vacancy positions.  We'll see what happens.  What will be, will be.  

I think Zeus wants to help proofread...   
And now we wait.  We get things ready just in case some school decides they might like to talk to me about becoming a part of their staff.  We hope.  We pray.  We wait.

In the meantime Zeus has plans of his own...
I can't quite decipher his plan though.  Is it to wear the vest himself some day?  Does he think if he sits on it his poppa won't wear it?  Who knows, silly boy.

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Beautiful Day

The sun was shining.  The birds were singing.  I was off to the hair salon and trying not to be terrified out of my mind.  If you've read the blog before you know I'd rather do just about anything other than find a new hair stylist. Seriously.  I think I might rather dig holes in the middle of a field or something equally tiring and dirty.  (Misadventures of a Gypsy, anyone?) However, this trip to the hair salon was not the horror show I imagined.  In fact it was down right lovely.  I think even if my hair hadn't turned out so fabulous I would have enjoyed the day anyway, but great hair makes a wonderful day even better.

The day began with this guy:
Isn't he dreamy?

He was the chauffeur (had to spell check that one) and even though Ms. Daisy grumped at him for taking too long to get ready and she had to skip her trip through the Starbucks drive thru he still happily drove her to the salon.  First we made a stop at the gas station for a Red Bull and Starbucks in a glass jar.  Then off to the salon!

We arrived at the salon ahead of schedule despite our late start.  As we parked I kindly told my chauffeur he had an hour or two to kill while I got my hair did.  He was a little bewildered for a minute.  He knew he didn't want to spend all that time in the salon with me though, so off he went to explore.

While I spent time changing into my smock, using the magic words my stylist in Ohio gave me to tell the Alabama stylist what I wanted, getting foiled up, steaming, washing, getting the dead ends cut, and then getting all dried off Dave was busy finding a delightful surprise just for me.  There are cool little shops in downtown Homewood that I hadn't had the joy of exploring before.  He hadn't explored them either until that day.  Once my hair was complete in all its fabulousness we decided to explore together, he wanted to show me some of the cool shops he found.  I wish I had a camera with me because they were so very unique and wonderful.  But first he had a surprise.  The man is wonderful at surprises.  He said "do you want to put your purse in the car and just carry your clutch?"  Great idea.  The purse does get heavy after awhile, why not?  So he unlocks the car and I go to tuck my book in the front seat and grab what I need from the purse before I put it in the trunk.  I stop though because there is a white plastic bag with a present all wrapped up in black tissue paper and tied with a twine bow.  I say "what's this?"  He says "something I found for you."  I carefully open it and am delighted to read little bits like this:

Most of the time, and I do too

I live for his silly stories.  They make my day.

Without him I'm lost

Me too babe.

Almost 6 years already? You're kidding me...

These little bits make up this lovely beauty.  As soon as we got home that evening we had to find it a place on the wall.  A place where everyone else can see its wonderfulness.

My favorite piece of word art yet.
After he unveiled this beauty I gave him a huge hug, we tucked this safely into the car, and we were off to explore the shops together.  I found an idea for the new bed of my dreams, canopy and all.  He showed me a super cool idea for a spare room couch/raft bed.  We dreamed of all the crazy things we would love to do with our house some day.  We just have to find the perfect house...

Once we were done exploring the shops of Homewood it was off to a gun store.  There's always a gun store involved in any perfect day isn't there?  Maybe not in your perfect day, but there has to be in mine. I married a man who loves weapons.  I patiently roamed up and down the gun counter with him as he carefully looked over each of the jewels.  They look like guns to me, but to him they're jewels.  Some need a little more polishing than others.  I didn't care.  I was happy to be with my man.  I also realized with each passing year my gun knowledge grows just a little bit more.  I can kinda tell some of them apart from others.  My eyes don't glaze over quite as quickly as they used to when he starts talking about them.  I can even kind of talk about them myself.  Sort of.  I am by no means an expert, but I'm learning.  After the gun counter it was the knife counter, then to look at bows (the kind you hunt with, not the ones you put in your hair), and then back to the gun counter. Sigh.  Yep, kinda bored now...but still being patient.  He found one he wanted to we wait while the paperwork is completed.  We stop by the register and we're off...

...to another gun store.  This time it is the one where he works so he can show off his newest buy.  I wait patiently and play with my new fabulous hair.  It feels nice and soft so I keep running my fingers through it and pulling it out far enough to check out the amazing color.  The boys, er guys, all ooh and ahh over his newest weapon.  They talk about refinishing it, because it looks a little rough.  It was a great deal though.  Me?  I could care less, but I'm happy in my own little world.  One of the guys says "how do I get that?"  I say "get what?"  He says "get that.  He buys a gun and you don't care."  I said "he buys guns and I don't care.  I buy clothes and shoes and he doesn't care.  The bills are paid.  I don't care."  He shakes his head still mystified.  Seriously.  It makes my man happy so I don't care.

By this time I was hungry.  I decided we needed to pause for a dinner break.  My treat since he bought me such a lovely present and I'm feeling generous.

Then we head to the second hand bookstore.  I could spend days in that store.  I found a whole stack of books I can hardly wait to read.  They're all from the military section of the store though.  I still enjoy reading girly books, but I've been captivated by the military section.  It was the perfect ending to a wonderful day spent with my man.  Days like this are rare.  Days when I don't have a million other errands I'm worrying about getting done.  Days when I can just stop and enjoy the moment with my man.  Enjoy spending time with him, enjoy Loving him in all his crazy wonderfulness.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Things I've been thinking about...

Lately, I've had a lot on my mind.  Way too much really, which is probably why up until the latter part of this week my newly found gym habit was flourishing.  I thoroughly enjoy hopping onto the elliptical, cranking up the tunes on my i-pod, and for 25 minutes disappearing into the music, the movement, and not thinking about much of anything except breathing through the next 25 minutes.  I'm working my way up to longer amounts of time, but this 29 year old body is having a tough time adjusting to the gym again.  My muscles are sore.  Everything hurts.  I'm a whiner, I know.

Some of the many things I've had on my mind:

What does it mean to be a military spouse?  How do you help prepare someone for that role without utterly terrifying them about the realities of a military spouse, especially with the nation at war?  How do you then adapt to life in the civilian world once you are no longer active duty?  How does that change your role as military spouse?  I have so many questions...and not nearly enough answers, but like any military spouse does I put one foot in front of the other and I keep on doing the best I can in all aspects of the role.  I recently read a blog that very concisely summed up some of the parts of being a military spouse.  You can read what she had to say here.  Some of it made me smile and nod, other things made me laugh out loud, and some things made me tear up at the memory of those moments in my own life.  I think she answered my question about what does it mean to be a military spouse pretty well though when she says  "I have no clue how to still my pounding heart when he finally walks through our door again, I don’t know how to pull my hands from his sand-stained neck and say goodbye, and I don’t know how to ever walk away from a man who stands while many choose to sit."  I think that is the key to any lasting relationship in the military.  Your spouse always has to be worth the wait, if not I'm not sure your relationship will make it-because the reality of military life is rather frustrating and down right hard sometimes.  I know I didn't have the worst of it either.  I'll openly admit that.  It wasn't all a rose garden, but I know it could have had a lot more thorns.

I recently read "You Know When the Men Are Gone" by Siobhan Fallon, an Army wife.  I was enthralled.  I had read a review or two about it awhile before it actually hit the shelves.  I anxiously waited for its arrival.  It is a collection of mini stories giving you glimpses into the different aspects of life as a military spouse. It left me wanting "the rest of the story" for each chapter, but I suppose that if I knew all of the story it might not have captivated me.  I made it all the way to pg 6 before stopping to write down a quote that makes all spouses that have had their loved one deploy smile and nod...

      "She hated grocery shopping, she hated cooking without a man to satiate; the only pleasure in her trip was picking out the food she would send Jeremy in a weekly package-beef jerky, Twizzlers and lollipops, hand wipes and magazines, things that could get crushed, exposed to high temperatures, sit in a box for over a month, and still manage to be consumed by home-desperate soldiers."
I remember grocery shopping with my sweet friend Anna at the commissary on Friday nights after a long week of teaching.  Shopping with a friend made the task more enjoyable.  The highlight was picking out the items we would mail out to our husbands in their next package.  Plus, it helped that once we were done shopping we would eat dinner together and split a bottle of Duplin County Wine.  Another quote contained in this same short story that made me chuckle: "Please get that Churchill-headed creature away from me.  The wives were always throwing their offspring at her as if they thought that the more she got spit up on, the more she'd want one of her own."  As if, lol.

Related to this was an incident that happened last week.  My mother-in-law told me we had some mail at their house.  Their house is listed as a permanent address on a few things from Dave's time in the USMC.  She said he had mail from the USMC. I should have asked for clarification (like read me the return address) and saved myself a few restless nights, since we didn't make it over to pick it up for a few days.  You see, the only thing I could think of that the Marine Corps might have for him at this point would be a recall notice.  The time is still ticking on the inactive duty contract.  So of course, I had to do what I do-run through every worst case scenario I could think of attached to this news.  How would I react, how was I going to deal, what would I do, what would he be doing, what happens if it all goes horribly, horribly wrong?  I tend to let my imagination run a little wild and the worst case scenario really means absolute worst case.  I won't type it, but I'll run through what little I am able to imagine in my head and think about how I'd deal.  I'm seriously afflicted.  Yet somehow, running through all the worst case scenarios makes dealing a little easier.  I feel a little more prepared.  Sort of.  I had some crazy dreams. I'm sure my sweet mother-in-law had no idea the panic that USMC mail might bring about in me.  I'm glad we eventually found out it was a letter from the VA and not the USMC.  Nope, not the same.  Not the same at all, lol. 

Pondering what it means to be a military spouse has also played a major role in another thought that is taking over a large percentage of my brain.  What am I going to do for the rest of my life? More than 10 years ago I would have told you I'd be teaching.  Even 5 years ago I would have told you that.  While I do sometimes miss the classroom and the thrill of watching students learn something new or think about something in a whole new way, the truth is there is plenty I don't miss too.  I keep debating about going back, but I just don't know.  I don't think it is going to be a retail career forever.  While I enjoy it, I'm a little wishy washy about it.  I've also been thinking about going back to school too.  This will probably wait a bit, but I'm thinking about it.  There have been a few things that have prompted me in this direction.  I'm pondering a master's degree in counseling or some such thing.  I've always been someone that people will share things with.  Even complete strangers will share things with me that they might not tell their best friend.  I don't judge them.  I don't share their secrets.  I just listen and comment as appropriate.  Rolled into that is pondering about doing PTSD type counseling.  I started thinking about it a little on the drive to DC after listening to one of the This American Life podcasts that had a story about a guy living with the effects of his life with PTSD.  It made my heart ache for many reasons, but it also made me wonder how can we be doing more to help these people?  What can we change about the process?  How can we help them return to life as usual after they've given up a part of their soul, their life, their security...?  Can we even help?  Well, I think I might like to try.  Pondering it anyhow.

I've also been reading an enthralling book entitled "What Was Asked of Us: An Oral History of the Iraq War by the Soldiers Who Fought It." I should add that the book includes Marines and I have found it extremely distracting that this particular publisher did not know that Marine is a title that is earned and as such is ALWAYS capitalized.  I want to write over every lower case m in the book, but it isn't my book so I can't.  A friend read this book and then loaned it to me to read, knowing that I enjoy reading this sort of book.  It gives brief glimpses into the lives of soldiers, what it was like for them, and how they are dealing with it now.  I have enjoyed reading this book-as much as anyone really enjoys reading about acts of war and the affects they have on people.  I quickly learned that I couldn't read this book at bedtime.  I love to read myself into sleepiness, but this is not a book that lets you rest easy if you read it right before bedtime.  I have had numerous ah-ha moments while reading and many, many things that these soldiers and Marines share make me want to stop, take notes, and write whole blogs about them.  I think I may have to go back and re-read this book doing just that.  Right now though, I have to keep reading-just not before bedtime.  There are so many things I've read in this book that just seem unimaginable to me.  I can't quite imagine dealing with these things and managing to continue day after day after day.  These soldiers and Marines did.  So have countless others just like them.  Oh my heart hurts for them.  The thing I love the most about this book is that it is written from a first person perspective.  The soldier or Marine is talking directly to you as the reader.  It makes it more real to the reader and that much more difficult to digest.  Crissy, this is not a book you should read.  In fact, you should not read the rest of this paragraph.  Other tender hearted readers or those not ok with graphic descriptions of war should skip the rest of this paragraph as well.  Look for the next italic sentence to rejoin me...  The second story shared is from a Marine from Task Force Tarawa telling about the beginnings of the battle in Nasiriya.  He talks about seeing an AAV (amphibious assault vehicle) in Ambush Alley after it had been hit by an RPG.  He said he could see the crewman inside on fire, but trying to get out (7-9of them).  He and the Doc leave their vehicle and run over to help.  He hands the Doc a leg that was laying on the ramp of the AAV and tells him to lay it off to the side because they are going to find who that belongs to.  He goes to help get another Marine out of the back, and as he was pulling him out his upper torso separated from his lower torso.  He ends up with only his upper half in his hands.  He passes it to the Doc telling him to "Put this in the back of the Humvee because Marines don't leave our dead or wounded on the battle field; everybody comes home.  Even if its a piece of you, I have a responsibility to your mom and dad to bring everything back."  Can you imagine what that would have been like?  How do you finish a task like that and then rejoin the battle?  I know, it is in the training-but still.  Another story shared by a Marine was about care packages sent from home.  This Marine was in Mortuary Affairs.  They had a big dry erase board in their meeting room with a Word of the Day.  His wife had sent him a Webster's build-your-vocabulary dictionary and every day they would choose a word of the day, write the word and the definition on the board, and then get Marines to use the word in sentences.  They would also try to see which Marine could use it with the highest ranking officer he could get to.  The Marine no longer remembers all the words of the day, but there is another Marine who kept logbooks of them.  I can see Marines doing this, it made me laugh.  Another Mortuary Affairs Marine shares that the first thing they did when a Marine came in was "we had to get his shirt sizes and his clothing sizes as a form of identification because you're issued garments when you join the Marine Corps, and it's crazy but grunts are known for wearing five different people's clothes when they go outside the wire.  They have to go on a mission, but 'hey my shirt's not dry yet.  You got a shirt I can borrow?' They go outside the wire with someone else's boots, with somebody else's dog tags.  They've got a shirt that somebody else's name is on.  So you end up with a Marine that comes in dead and he's got four different names on his person."  Wow.  I knew grunts would wear all kinds of stuff that was borrowed from someone else, but I never thought of the battle field ramifications of this.  One final story is about an MP stationed in Abu Ghraib Prison.  He was there during the infamous incidents, but while that is an interesting part of the story he had a lot more to say about other things too.  This MP tells us he is a born-again Christian and a born-again believer.  He believes that the Bible is the emphatic word of God.  He also believes that there is still a lot of good that can be done for people.  "Every morning I would go up to the roof and pray before a mission, and put my requests before God to make sure we made it home safely, and that morning I forgot, with all the chaos.  I just didn't do it.  I didn't pray."  On this particular day his job was to transport some of the Iraqi prisoners to court.  Normally when transporting prisoners they leave the cover off the back of the Deuce, the two and a half pound truck with benches in the back that is normally used for troop transport, so that the insurgents could see it was Iraqis in the back.  Today they were rushed and forgot to take the cover off.  They reach a point in the road where they would change lanes and get ready to exit the highway.  Cars begin flashing their lights to suggest trouble is coming.  The MP realizes he didn't pray today and so he begins praying while driving.  "God, I'm sorry I forgot to pray.  Please keep us safe."  They were hit.  All of the US troops were survived, but one of the Iraqi prisoners died.  The MP is troubled by this and said "God you picked the wrong guy for this job.  You picked the wrong guy to be in this country, because if I've got to deal with this I just can't take it.  There's no way I can take it.  There's no way I can handle losing like this."   His roommate, who was always picking on him about talking to God, came up to him and said "All the times you talk to God, and it paid dividends today, because all of your soldiers are alive.  And that speaks to me."  The MP realizes he didn't pray for the Iraqis, he never even thought about it, and he lost one.  Geesh.  It makes me want to just give every vet a hug, although that would probably freak them out a bit.
 
Okay Crissy and anyone else who skipped the graphic parts you can rejoin me.  I'm only halfway through this book.  It is taking me some time to read, process, and digest.  Some stories my mind has to ponder for a long time before I can move on to read the next one.  I think I will begin reading journal with it.  It might help me process a little better.  It has given me a lot to think about in relationship to a counseling degree.  Again, how can you begin to help when you have no idea the realities of war?  I suppose you can listen with an empathetic ear, treat them with dignity and respect, and listen, truly listen to what they do share...  I may not ever end up working towards a degree in  counseling.  I may not ever end up working with vets are on a large scale.  Who knows?  I'm still pondering.

My fortune cookie the other day said "You find beauty in ordinary things.  Appreciate this gift."  I try to, on both accounts.