The third Friday of September is set aside as POW/MIA recognition day. The Rochester chapter of the POW/MIA riders held a ceremony at the Soldiers Field Veterans Memorial to remember our heroes that never came home. Competing with football games is tough, but a crowd of about 50 gathered on a chilly evening at seven as the sun was setting, it seemed fitting for the topic at hand.
It was a nice ceremony filled with emotion. Colors posted, pledge of allegiance, prayer, explaination of the POW/MIA table for one and a speaker who spoke of never forgetting the over 83,000 men and women from the wars in the last century that are still considered as POW/MIA. That is almost the size of a Rochester! "We will never forget, we must never forget."
It made me think of how thankful I am that I was not one of the families that never knew what happened to their loved ones. Curtis came home. As difficult as it is to have lost him, I know what his fate was. I know he did not suffer. How horrible to never know where your child may have suffered and died, if in fact they came to that fate, are they still living? Not having the opportunity to bury them would be more heart wrenching.
Although the date has passed, I hope that everyone notes this date for next year. It's OK to go to the football game, it is those freedoms that these men and women fought for. Just take the time to say a prayer for them and their families. Pray for their return, pray for the family to have some peace and closure.
We must never forget, we will never forget.
Monday, September 24, 2012
Monday, September 17, 2012
Angel Flight
An Angel Flight is the dignified transfer of our fallen men and woman from overseas to their final destination, home. As the body is transfered work is halted and a silence is cast over the area. Military personnel stand at attention from privates to Generals. Engines of helicopters and airplanes are shut down and all other flights are delayed. No one speaks, only salutes are given to the fallen heroes.
Shortly after Curtis was killed we were sent a copy of an e-mail written by an officer who had witnessed this for the first time. He told of how powerful this experience was. He later was told that one of the fallen that day was a fellow Marine from his home state, Minnesota. His father sent us the e-mail because his son was part of Curtis' journey home.
Last week while on the TTTT ride one of our stops was the Tee it up for the Troops event in Mendakota. It is the original tournament that has gone nationwide. A man approached us stating he had been thinking of us and our son for two and half years. It was the father of the Marine who wrote the letter. After tears and hugs, we talked about our sons.
It continually amazes me how many are touched by Curtis. He was an ordinary kid never wanting to be in the spotlight, he would have hated the attention paid. I am thankful that so many think of him, the fact that he will not be forgotten helps us to continue on.
Shortly after Curtis was killed we were sent a copy of an e-mail written by an officer who had witnessed this for the first time. He told of how powerful this experience was. He later was told that one of the fallen that day was a fellow Marine from his home state, Minnesota. His father sent us the e-mail because his son was part of Curtis' journey home.
Last week while on the TTTT ride one of our stops was the Tee it up for the Troops event in Mendakota. It is the original tournament that has gone nationwide. A man approached us stating he had been thinking of us and our son for two and half years. It was the father of the Marine who wrote the letter. After tears and hugs, we talked about our sons.
It continually amazes me how many are touched by Curtis. He was an ordinary kid never wanting to be in the spotlight, he would have hated the attention paid. I am thankful that so many think of him, the fact that he will not be forgotten helps us to continue on.
Monday, September 10, 2012
Two Pins
Dave and I have just returned from the weekend we have looked forward to all year. Tribute to the Troops riders visited seven Gold Star families across Minnesota. Although this weekend is full of emotion, not all of it is bad. The support and love we give and receive goes a long way in our healing.
It was only two years ago this great group came into our lives, standing on our front lawn, proclaiming, "We will never forget Curtis." They keep that promise to us and to all the families they have touched. This year, we visited a family on the same block we live on. How strange that two visits not only in one city, but on the very same street. As I was packing for the trip, I wanted to place our Honor and Remember flag on our front window so that the riders who found the neighborhood familiar could pick out our home.
Backing up a few weeks, I need to explain that I had finally decided to go through some of Curtis' things. For some reason the time felt right and I found it actually very pleasant. Many of the things were organized before he moved out of the house, and the remaining items were things he could have used when he was ready. It brought back memories of the pack rat collector he was, who needs a gallon size bag of rubber bands?
So I was looking for the flag, and in the drawer I found two pins I had not given any thought to when I found them among the scads of trinkets in Curtis' stash. Two eagle pins. One larger and more masculine looking, and the other half the size and dainty. It's as if they were meant for Dave and I to wear on this years ride, he would be with us.
Unfortunately mine broke as I tried to place it on the heavy leather. Of course I was initially disappointed, but whenever I saw Dave's pin throughout the weekend I thought of mine in my pocket. There is no need to stay upset over such trivial things. Curtis was with us.
It was only two years ago this great group came into our lives, standing on our front lawn, proclaiming, "We will never forget Curtis." They keep that promise to us and to all the families they have touched. This year, we visited a family on the same block we live on. How strange that two visits not only in one city, but on the very same street. As I was packing for the trip, I wanted to place our Honor and Remember flag on our front window so that the riders who found the neighborhood familiar could pick out our home.
Backing up a few weeks, I need to explain that I had finally decided to go through some of Curtis' things. For some reason the time felt right and I found it actually very pleasant. Many of the things were organized before he moved out of the house, and the remaining items were things he could have used when he was ready. It brought back memories of the pack rat collector he was, who needs a gallon size bag of rubber bands?
So I was looking for the flag, and in the drawer I found two pins I had not given any thought to when I found them among the scads of trinkets in Curtis' stash. Two eagle pins. One larger and more masculine looking, and the other half the size and dainty. It's as if they were meant for Dave and I to wear on this years ride, he would be with us.
Unfortunately mine broke as I tried to place it on the heavy leather. Of course I was initially disappointed, but whenever I saw Dave's pin throughout the weekend I thought of mine in my pocket. There is no need to stay upset over such trivial things. Curtis was with us.
Monday, August 27, 2012
The Last Button
Over the past weekend there was a golf tournament in Curtis' honor. Caleb, a Marine that had served with Curtis in Iraq, is now a golf pro in a community about a hour north of Lake Tahoe. All proceeds of this event went to the Armed Forces Foundation, an organization in which ninety five percent of their money goes to help troops, veterans and their families. We were invited to this first time event and with the help of Caleb and this foundation, we were able to attend with Emily, Nic and Katie.
The beautiful scenery, friendly hospitality and interesting architecture made this weekend special. Anytime our family can spend time together makes me happy. Doing it in such a peaceful setting and on our anniversary weekend only added to the experience. This time together is only second to the gratitude I feel when Curtis is thought of and honored by so many.
Dave and I usually carry Curtis' buttons to such events, and I had stuffed as many as I could in a small makeup case for the trip. While packing to head home, I noticed I had one lone button left. I was a bit disappointed in myself that I had not given them all away, but apparently it was saved for a reason. Entering the airport, we found a flag line of about 25 patriot guard welcoming home 8 airmen. Chatting with one of the men, he asked if we had time to walk the line, we jumped at the opportunity to thank them. I pulled out that last button for the captain of the group. It turned out to be a mother whose son will deploy to Afghanistan in the next few months. I'd like to think she needed this so Curtis could watch over him.
What a beautiful country we live in, so many big hearts.
The beautiful scenery, friendly hospitality and interesting architecture made this weekend special. Anytime our family can spend time together makes me happy. Doing it in such a peaceful setting and on our anniversary weekend only added to the experience. This time together is only second to the gratitude I feel when Curtis is thought of and honored by so many.
Dave and I usually carry Curtis' buttons to such events, and I had stuffed as many as I could in a small makeup case for the trip. While packing to head home, I noticed I had one lone button left. I was a bit disappointed in myself that I had not given them all away, but apparently it was saved for a reason. Entering the airport, we found a flag line of about 25 patriot guard welcoming home 8 airmen. Chatting with one of the men, he asked if we had time to walk the line, we jumped at the opportunity to thank them. I pulled out that last button for the captain of the group. It turned out to be a mother whose son will deploy to Afghanistan in the next few months. I'd like to think she needed this so Curtis could watch over him.
What a beautiful country we live in, so many big hearts.
Saturday, August 11, 2012
A Hero's Welcome?
Like many others, I am a fan of the Olympics. I enjoy watching sports that usually don't get much press, and for two weeks my TV is tuned into the station with something Olympic. This morning as I watched I heard something that made me take note. All next week this network is going to have "A hero's welcome home".
Although I am in awe at the athleticism in this group, can we consider them hero's? Sure, they are dedicated and work hard for a small time in the spotlight. Many are professionals, getting paid to play a sport. Many are blessed with an athletic ability some of us could never possess. They are competitive, but what have they done to be given hero status?
Have they placed there lives on the line for the sake of peace? Have they been away from family and friends under great mental and emotional stress so others can sleep well at night? Have they faced great danger so some can pursue a life of sport?
While this station has dedicated two weeks to this sporting event many of our soldiers and Marines have been killed with barely a passing notice. Maybe it is too sad of news to report while they are having a great time in London. Of course it is, but our brave are fighting so those reporters and athletes can have that wonderful vacation. They don't do it for glory, they do it for love of country, family and friends. They do it for the guy next to them.
It's time to stop using the word Hero so loosely, stop de-valuing the meaning. How about just a "welcome home", that is what it is.
Although I am in awe at the athleticism in this group, can we consider them hero's? Sure, they are dedicated and work hard for a small time in the spotlight. Many are professionals, getting paid to play a sport. Many are blessed with an athletic ability some of us could never possess. They are competitive, but what have they done to be given hero status?
Have they placed there lives on the line for the sake of peace? Have they been away from family and friends under great mental and emotional stress so others can sleep well at night? Have they faced great danger so some can pursue a life of sport?
While this station has dedicated two weeks to this sporting event many of our soldiers and Marines have been killed with barely a passing notice. Maybe it is too sad of news to report while they are having a great time in London. Of course it is, but our brave are fighting so those reporters and athletes can have that wonderful vacation. They don't do it for glory, they do it for love of country, family and friends. They do it for the guy next to them.
It's time to stop using the word Hero so loosely, stop de-valuing the meaning. How about just a "welcome home", that is what it is.
Sunday, August 5, 2012
Hero's Ride
I recently was part of a committee that formed the first Hero's Ride. Our goal was to raise money for the Disabled American Veterans. It was a pleasure to work with such dedicated people, many DAV members themselves.
Much of our group are Vietnam Veterans who consider 'work' a four letter word. They may be retired, but they work harder on committee after committee raising money for our Veterans than anyone I know. We had POW/MIA Riders and Patriot Guard members to round out the group, also dedicated people with a passion to help. I have learned so much from them all and they have become my mentors as well as friends. Although none of them knew Curtis personally, when I speak of him I sometimes see a tear come to the eyes of these sometimes rough around the edges men. Curtis was their brother.
We had a beautiful day for the ride. Not having a pre-registration, we were not sure how many bikes to expect, but one hundred bikes with 130 riders showed up to ride for our Hero's. The ride to Wabasha, up the Mississippi river on the way to Mazeppa, and back was beautiful. A band and comedian at the VFW ended a great day.
As I rode I thought of the men and woman who made this day possible. Not of the committee, but of the brave that signed on to do a job that few could do. Risking their health and lives so I could spend a day of my choosing. They deserve all the support we can give.
Much of our group are Vietnam Veterans who consider 'work' a four letter word. They may be retired, but they work harder on committee after committee raising money for our Veterans than anyone I know. We had POW/MIA Riders and Patriot Guard members to round out the group, also dedicated people with a passion to help. I have learned so much from them all and they have become my mentors as well as friends. Although none of them knew Curtis personally, when I speak of him I sometimes see a tear come to the eyes of these sometimes rough around the edges men. Curtis was their brother.
We had a beautiful day for the ride. Not having a pre-registration, we were not sure how many bikes to expect, but one hundred bikes with 130 riders showed up to ride for our Hero's. The ride to Wabasha, up the Mississippi river on the way to Mazeppa, and back was beautiful. A band and comedian at the VFW ended a great day.
As I rode I thought of the men and woman who made this day possible. Not of the committee, but of the brave that signed on to do a job that few could do. Risking their health and lives so I could spend a day of my choosing. They deserve all the support we can give.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Broken Heart
Yesterday a patient told me she had not been in lately because in the last year both her parents had passed away. I asked if they had been ill or if it was unexpected. Her elderly father had been sick, but she told me her mother's passing was sudden from a broken heart.
After so many times of having people not knowing what to say to me, it was my time to be silent. Not because I didn't know what to say, but because I was holding my tongue. What I really wanted to say was, "If it were true that a broken heart could kill you, I would have died two years ago." Instead, I worked in silence with my own thoughts. I did not want to come across as uncaring about her circumstance, and certainly didn't want to sound as if I was trying to one up her with my story.
I can understand how it could happen. Grief is very physically and emotionally painful. There were times when I thought I was having a heart attack my heart hurt so bad. Add age and loneliness to the equation and you have a true love story, one partner unable to live without the other.
I may not have physically died when Curtis was killed, but a part of me did. I don't feel like the same person, in many ways I am not. The small things that used to bother me seem to be gone. I have learned to say no without guilt, I can't be everything for everyone. I now know how important it is to take care of me first. I am no good to anyone if I am not healthy myself, physically and emotionally. Although I can see the old me at times, I feel it is a flatter, blanker version of what I was.
Of course the biggest change is the sense of purpose this has given me, something I think I never really had before. I went about my life raising a family trying to be a good person, but not having a cause I was passionate about. Being an advocate for military and veterans has given me a sense of pride. It has been my way of mending my broken heart.
After so many times of having people not knowing what to say to me, it was my time to be silent. Not because I didn't know what to say, but because I was holding my tongue. What I really wanted to say was, "If it were true that a broken heart could kill you, I would have died two years ago." Instead, I worked in silence with my own thoughts. I did not want to come across as uncaring about her circumstance, and certainly didn't want to sound as if I was trying to one up her with my story.
I can understand how it could happen. Grief is very physically and emotionally painful. There were times when I thought I was having a heart attack my heart hurt so bad. Add age and loneliness to the equation and you have a true love story, one partner unable to live without the other.
I may not have physically died when Curtis was killed, but a part of me did. I don't feel like the same person, in many ways I am not. The small things that used to bother me seem to be gone. I have learned to say no without guilt, I can't be everything for everyone. I now know how important it is to take care of me first. I am no good to anyone if I am not healthy myself, physically and emotionally. Although I can see the old me at times, I feel it is a flatter, blanker version of what I was.
Of course the biggest change is the sense of purpose this has given me, something I think I never really had before. I went about my life raising a family trying to be a good person, but not having a cause I was passionate about. Being an advocate for military and veterans has given me a sense of pride. It has been my way of mending my broken heart.
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