Fort Hood.

I'd be a bit remiss if I didn't talk about the 1 year anniversary of the shootings at Fort Hood. Upfront, I should tell you that neither Swiss nor I were there that day, though Fort Hood was our duty station at the time. Swiss was on his way back to Iraq after R&R and I was still in Minnesota. But, none of that matters.

Fort Hood was home for us. It was a place we felt safe and more than anywhere else I've been, we felt like a part of a community. No one ever thinks something like that will happen at their home, happen to people they know. But it did. It was senseless, horrific, tragic and beyond comprehension. And the flowers, ribbons and notes in the fences around that building served as reminders every single day of those who lost their lives, those who were deeply affected by it, and those who did all they could to help the victims around them.

I don't have anything more poignant to say, just that today you should take a minute to remember those families, remember those who were lost so senselessly, and thank those who risked everything to end the events of that horrific day.

Michael G. Cahill
MAJ Libardo E. Caraveo
SSGT Justin M. DeCrow
CPT John P. Gaffaney
SPC Frederick Greene
SPC Jason D. Hunt
SSGT Amy S. Kreuger
PFC Aaron T. Nemelka
PFC Michael S. Pearson
CPT Russell G. Seager
PFC Francheska Velez and her unborn child
LTC Juanita Warman
PFC Kham S. Xiong

Saying Goodbye.

Well, this has been one of the most difficult weekends I've ever experienced. I called my parents just before boarding my flight back home from San Francisco... that is when my Dad told me that my Grandpa suffered a catastrophic stroke the night before. I drove home from the airport, rounded up the dog, clean clothes and drove to my parent's home in the middle of the night.

We arrived at the hospital early Saturday morning and he looked so peaceful. But when the doctor came in, the reality of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks. He suffered a catastrophic stroke when a clot that had formed in his heart dislodged and stuck itself in his carotid artery. His entire left hemisphere was injured; speech recognition, the ability to form words, and the control of the right side of his body. Gone... or at least greatly diminished. The man I had grown up with, admired, respected and adored was a shell of his usually vibrant self. And the odds were not in his favor.

After 72 hours of waiting and hoping, we got the final word today... he will not improve... he can't. The damage was too much and the risks for complications were too high. Thankfully he was "awake" a bit more today and I got to see him try to smile. He tried to mumble 'I love you' back to me after I said it to him. He and I had a good 4 minutes together... I didn't say goodbye, I couldn't bring myself to say those words, but I told him how much I loved him, how he was always my favorite, and I held his hand tight. Then I left. And I cried most of the way home.

We, as a family, along with his advance directive have made the exceedingly hard decision to let him die quietly, peacefully, painlessly in hospice. As horrible as that sounds, letting him die, the alternative of a gastric feeding tube and a non-existent "life" in a nursing home, unable to speak, write, or move was never an option for us or him. He deserves better and he went out on top, which is both a blessing and a curse... it is comforting to know he was living a great life and never had to suffer through loosing his faculties, but it is beyond hard to comprehend and stomach that he is so suddenly gone, with no warning and no rhyme or reason. He was Wii bowling with his friends Thursday hours before the stroke... he was loving life and having fun and he knew how much he was loved by all of us. This is the last gift we can give to him, honor his wishes and let him go peacefully, no matter how hard it is and no matter how unready we were to say goodbye.

I feel such a great sense of loss and shock that he will no longer be there for family Sunday dinners, that his joyful demeanor and contagious laughs won't be present at holiday gatherings, that I won't get to play cards with him and playfully scold him when he tried to cheat. I will miss our Friday phone calls and I will miss his kind smile. I am still utterly gobsmacked that all of this has happened... he was the picture of health, 91 years old still living on his own, active, alert, no hints of ill health. And the next day he was, essentially, gone.

Thankfully I have an abundance of wonderful memories, I had the blessing of having him in my life for almost 31 years, I was able to form a unique and special relationship with him... and I secretly think I was his favorite (because he was totally mine!). I remember him letting me do his hair up with ribbons and curlers when I was little. I remember him putting me up on his 6'4" shoulders to take me out to the sandbars on Lake Winnebago. I remember him acting out his clue of "Madonna" one year at Christmas playing charades... that memory is priceless. Mostly, I remember a man who was dedicated to his family, madly in love with his wife, and the kind of fellow who no one could dislike if they tried. I remember his patience, his charm and his good nature. He was a gem, one of a kind, and I was blessed to call him my Grandfather for so, so many wonderful years.

I will miss you like no other Grandpa... you'll always be my favorite and I'll always love you! Go be with your Beloved Ethel and know that we will never, ever forget what a wonderful person you have been, what a kind and generous grandparent you were, and what a strong, loving, parent you were... we will never forget the times we shared and we will never forget you. You will always, always be missed.

Also, Thank You everyone for your kind thoughts, prayers and for those of you who reached out for the first time... you all have no idea how much your kindness has meant to my family and me.

NOTE: Please understand this was a very hard decision for our family and while you may not agree with us, I do not have any desire to hear those opinions, concerns or condemnations now, or ever. Please respect this decision our family has made as a whole and only comment if you have something positive or kind to say. Thanks.

Honor.

I was going to write a post today about my stepson and brother in law and how family can be a pain in your behind. But then I stopped by Soldiers's Angels Germany's blog and got not only a reality check, but also a healthy dose of all that is right with our country. If only every fallen soldier got a homecoming like this. I cried like a baby (at work, no less) and felt so much pride, so much honor, so in debt to this man and his family... we, as a country, can never repay or replace what they have lost, but the very least we can do is honor them.

Rest is Peace Sgt 1st Class John C. Beale
Riverdale, Georgia, Georgia Army National Guard 48th Infantry Brigade Combat Team.
May we never forget you or the sacrifice you made for us.

WARNING: This video is long, about 12:35, but worth every second. And it WILL make you weep openly, if it doesn't you are a lost cause. It is also worth noting that all of these people came out to honor this soldier after only a small notice was posted in the local newspaper listing the route and approximate time. It makes me so hopeful and thankful that people do still care. Especially when it counts the most.

Perspective.

This story puts my PCS woes into sharp focus, it makes me thankful that I have a PCS to look forward to with my husband, it makes me remember that they are all in danger regardless of what the news tells us, and it makes my heart break. It will make you cry. It will make you grateful for all that you have. It will make all of your own issues seem tiny in comparison. It will help us all remember.

And this story will help the memory and life of Lt. Brian Bradshaw live on, with honor, dignity and grace.

It is good to know that, while the rest of the world was more concerned with the life and death of a pop star, our armed forces were focused on a man that mattered, a man that made a difference, and a man who made this world a better place. Whether the masses knew him or not.

Rest in Peace Lt. Brian Bradshaw. We won't forget you.

Happy Fourth of July!

Eighth Avenue Patriot, originally uploaded by Tucker&Swiss.

Enjoy the day and remember what it is about, and remember those fighting to keep it that way...

Angsty.

I don't know what it is, but lately I've been feeling antsy and angsty and generally unsettled. It has nothing to do with the PCS, that much I know. I suspect it has everything to do with all the turnings of the tides over yonder in the Sandboxes. I don't know how many times I have heard "All of our troops are out of the city!" in the last few days and then how many times I roll my eyes. (Not to mention the inevitable, "So does this mean Swiss gets to come home?" No. No it does not.)

They are not out. Decidedly not. Anyone who knows anything knows this. So why the charade? Why the lip service? Are we afraid to say we were wrong and they aren't ready? Do we not want to hurt feelings or relationships so we just go along with the plan anyway? Or are we just not ready to give up control, so we just say we are? In word but not in spirit? Or worse yet, are we still there because we didn't have a good place to move these guys to? Ask around and you might be surprised by the answers you find...

Somehow our guys went from soldiers to "Advisers" overnight, and somehow this means they are no longer "troops"? Wha? And what's worse is that somewhere the truth got lost in the translation and it seems that folks think the war in Iraq is now over. If only... Gaw, lately it seems like it is just beginning again, albeit in a new format. Violence is up. Attacks are up. Security is uneven at best.

And this major offensive in Afghanistan (with one KIA already) and the DUSTWUN soldier too... it all makes me nervous. It makes me edgy. It makes me realize that even though things seemed 'easy' and 'safe' for a little while, they aren't. Not by any stretch of the imagination. Troops are still dying, losing their legs, anything else you can (or can't) imagine. There are still mortar attacks, IEDs, the works... This isn't easy, this isn't over and the danger isn't gone. And all of this brings the fact that Swiss isn't safe, none of our loved ones over there are, into sharp focus. And that scares the crap out of me.

So I guess the nerves, the angst, the antsyness... all just par for the course. This is what it feels like when your loved ones are at war. It ain't a fun place to be. But then again, most of you know that. And you know this feeling. Maybe you are feeling it right now too...

At the risk of sounding hokey, the only thing I can think to do is keep these guys and gals in your thoughts (or prayers if that is your bag). And don't let the folks around you forget. It isn't over yet and we all need to remember that. Do it for them, for their families, or even for me... just one in the endless sea of worried, nervous and angsty spouses. Until they all come home. Okay?

I know it isn't much, but it is something. And right now I'll take anything that will help me feel even a little bit better about this.

Memorial Day rant.

Monday my Mom and I went down to our little town and watched the Memorial Day parade. It was so sweet and quaint and so quintessentially small-town American. The members of the VFW marched by and I got all misty... I applauded them as they passed me and quickly everyone along the street joined in. I was so proud and honored and humbled in those minutes as the WWII era war planes flew overhead and the local high school marching band played "God Bless America". At that moment, it was all that is right with our country.

And then I came home, hopped on the web, and witnessed all that is wrong with our country. I got all kinds of surly with the commenters over at Pioneer Woman today... it seems that Memorial Day, to many, isn't about the military or the sacrifices of those men and women specifically that allow us the freedoms and liberties we have. It seems that for a lot of folks it is about remembering their families, their lineage, their ancestors. While I think it is great to remember your family history, I can't help but be annoyed that so many folks ignore, forget or disregard the fact that this is the ONE day a year we specifically set aside to remember those who sacrificed EVERYTHING for our freedom. I guess I feel like we have every other day of the year to remember those loved ones who have passed, Memorial Day isn't that day, at least it shouldn't be that day. Plus this lady really torqued me off:

"repmogirl said: Thanks for reminding folks that Memorial Day is about more than barbecues…It seems to have become another military holiday, but in my family it’s more about keeping track of family history and passing it on to the next generation..." (emphasis is mine)

WHA? ANOTHER MILITARY HOLIDAY??? There are only 2 major ones lady. Two. 2 days a year to stop for a damned minute to say THANK YOU. Thank you for putting you life on hold, for fighting with all you have, for giving up your life to make this country what it is. 2 days. Quite frankly, it doesn't seem like enough. Anyway, thankfully a poster named Deb got it right:

"Thank you for sharing from your heart about your Memorial Day, which is centered on your family cemetery. As the wife of an Air Force officer who has selflessly served our country for over 20 years, including two tours in Iraq, I was really saddened to hear that your Memorial Day doesn’t focus on what Memorial Day is really all about. (But thanks for including the paragraph on cowboy “Sam” who served in Vietnam, and mentioning the military in the last paragraph.)
Please know that Memorial Day is a day to honor and remember the brave military men and women who died while in military service. You & I would not enjoy the freedoms we have today without the military folks, past & present, who are willing to give their lives in order to secure our freedom.
Thank you to all of you out there who serve in the military! May God bless America, land of the free…because of the brave."

YEAH. What she said.

So that is my rant. I don't mean to sound sanctimonious, it is just that I get so fed up with the people of this country who forget about our military, who shrug off their daily sacrifices as inconsequential, who don't care to remember or honor them, who look at the military with disdain or disgust, who flippantly blow off the remembrance of the people who DIED so that you can have your white picket fences and an internet to spew your stupidity on (repmogirl, not Ree). I get annoyed that people feel the need to make THIS holiday about them, about their own tiny bubbles, not the National Day of Remembrance for the strangers that died for your freedoms, this year, last year, and every year before. What those men and women died for was your right to be an outspoken moron and not have to reap any consequences for it. So at least be thankful for your right to be an idiot, you ungrateful twit.

Hhmph. Rant over.

UPDATE: I was over at The Big Picture (go check it out, they have some beautiful Memorial day photos) and while there is plenty of drivel in the comments, there are a few from European readers who thanked our WWII troops for all they have done, all their sacrifices so that they too may be free. So that the French and Spanish and all the others can still be just that, not part of a German empire (see # 35, 37, 41, 84, 88). These folks made me tear up because they don't even live here, the troops weren't their countrymen, it wasn't their sacrifice and yet, they GET IT. They get it in a way that clearly so few Americans do.

Memorial Day

'Flags-In' at Arlington National Cemetery for Memorial Day 2008, originally uploaded by Army.mil.

I am off to the motherland this weekend, back to Wisconsin and home. But please remember what this weekend is about... remember those who gave everything so that we may have what we do today. Let this weekend be about them... not just BBQ's, sales and a day off from work.

The Memorial Day Order:
"The 30th day of May, 1868, is designated for the purpose of strewing with flowers, or otherwise decorating the graves of comrades who died in defense of their country ... and whose bodies now lie in almost every city, village and hamlet churchyard in the land.

We are organized, Comrades, as our regulations tell us, for the purpose among other things, "of preserving and strengthening those kind and fraternal feelings which have bound together the soldiers, sailors and Marines, who united to suppress the late rebellion." What can aid more to assure this result than by cherishing tenderly the memory of our heroic dead? We should guard their graves with sacred vigilance. All that the consecrated wealth and taste of the nation can add to their adornment and security, is but a fitting tribute to the memory of her slain defenders. Let pleasant paths invite the coming and going of reverent visitors and fond mourners. Let no neglect, no ravages of time, testify to the present or to the coming generations that we have forgotten as a people the cost of a free and undivided republic.

Let us, then, at the time appointed, gather around their sacred remains, and garland the passionless mounds above them with choicest flowers of springtime; let us raise above them the dear old flag they saved; let us in this solemn presence renew our pledge to aid and assist those whom they have left among us a sacred charge upon the Nation's gratitude—the soldier's and sailor's widow and orphan." —General Orders No. 11, Grand Army of the Republic Headquarters

Remember.