quote:

Originally posted by Flash69:
>> A Different Christmas Poem
>>
>> The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light, I gazed round the
>> room and I cherished the sight.
>> My wife was asleep, her head on my chest, My daughter beside me,
>> angelic in rest.
>> Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white, Transforming the yard to a

>> winter delight.
>> The sparkling lights in the tree I believe, Completed the magic that
>> was Christmas Eve.
>> My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep, Secure and surrounded
>> by love I would sleep.
>> In perfect contentment, or so it would seem, So I slumbered, perhaps
>> I started to dream.
>>
>> The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near, But I opened my eyes
>> when it tickled my ear.
>> Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know, Then the sure sound of
>> footsteps outside in the snow.
>> My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear, And I crept to the door
>> just to see who was near.
>> Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night, A lone figure
>> stood, his face weary and tight.
>>
>> A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old, Perhaps a Marine,
>> huddled here in the cold.
>> Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled, Standing watch over me,
>> and my wife and my child.
>> "What are you doing?" I asked without fear, "Come in this moment,
>> it's freezing out here!
>> Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve, You should be at

>> home on a cold Christmas Eve!"
>>
>> For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift, Away from the cold and the
>> snow blown in drifts..
>> To the window that danced with a warm fire's light Then he sighed and

>> he said "Its really all right, I'm out here by choice. I'm here every

>> night." "It's my duty to stand at the front of the line, That
>> separates you from the darkest of times.
>> No one had to ask or beg or implore me, I'm proud to stand here like
>> my fathers before me.
>> My Gramps died at 'Pearl on a day in December,"
>> Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas 'Gram always remembers."
>> My dad stood his watch in the jungles of 'Nam', And now it is my turn

>> and so, here I am.
>> I've not seen my own son in more than a while, But my wife sends me
>> pictures, he's sure got her smile.
>>
>> Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag, The red, white,
>> and blue... an American flag.
>> I can live through the cold and the being alone, Away from my family,

>> my house and my home.
>> I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet, I can sleep in

>> a foxhole with little to eat.
>> I can carry the weight of killing another, Or lay down my life with
>> my sister and brother..
>> Who stand at the front against any and all, To ensure for all time
>> that this flag will not fall."
>>
>> "So go back inside," he said, "harbor no fright, Your family is
>> waiting and I'll be all right."
>> "But isn't there something I can do, at the least, "Give you money,"
>> I asked, "or prepare you a feast?
>> It seems all too little for all that you've done, For being away from

>> your wife and your son."
>> Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret, "Just tell us you
>> love us, and never forget.
>> To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone, To stand your
>> own watch, no matter how long.
>> For when we come home, either standing or dead, To know you remember
>> we fought and we bled.
>> Is payment enough, and with that we will trust, That we mattered to
>> you as you mattered to us."
>>
>> PLEASE, Would you do me the kind favor of sending this to as many
>> people as you can? Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is
>> due to our U.S.service men and women for our being able to celebrate
>> these festivities. Let's try in this small way to pay a tiny bit of
>> what we owe. Make people stop and think of our heroes, living and
>> dead, who sacrificed themselves for us.
>>
>> LCDR Jeff Giles, SC, USN
>> 30th Naval Construction Regiment
>> OIC, Logistics Cell One
>> Al Taqqadum, Iraq

>>

bump

Thank you for your contribution!

I hardly remember
The names and faces that I knew.
I hardly remember
How each helped live with things both different and new,
How drafted men showed regulars as innocent
Just what to do,
And Guardsmen's boots that rivaled noonday Sun
Until their months of Active Duty all were through.
I hardly remember.

I won't forget
The lessons friendship, hardship, service taught.
I won't forget
Unlikely heroes who still bravely fought.
I won't forget.
But when I see their names upon a wall
I can't recall.

And tough young men all strangely uniformed
Walk down the airport halls.
I cannot know which of them comes back whole;
Who lives, who falls.
They bleed; I wonder,
What it all was for,
Because there still is need for war.
I don't forget.

Cortland Richmond 2009

>> Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret, "Just tell us you
>> love us, and never forget.
>> To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone, To stand your
>> own watch, no matter how long.
>> For when we come home, either standing or dead, To know you remember
>> we fought and we bled.
>> Is payment enough, and with that we will trust, That we mattered to
>> you as you mattered to us."

I went to the Armory's Memorial Day Celebration this afternoon. It was a bit of a walk (no buses today and it completely slipped my mind that I could have parked the bike at the store nearby...there is no parking for outsiders at the Armory itself) so I was a little knee sore when I arrived, a few minutes late for the pre-celebration music program.

There were rows of folding chairs, already well-occupied, but of course I couldn't manage to sit in that array. Too many people. Too closely packed. So I stood out at the edge of the crowd, in a place where I could keep an eye on most of the area around me. At first I was in the shade, but as more people arrived, I drifted further and further out, into the full sun, then across the lawn...oddly, there were several uniformed young men out there, in dress blues and BDUs, handing out programs and greeting those who walked up, but though some of them made eye contact now and then, they ignored me. I did get a program rather after things began, from a nice lady in civilian clothing...perhaps a member of D.A.R.?

As I drifted further and further out to escape the feeling of entrapment and danger rising in the back of my head when new arrivals moved to surround me, I fought with myself. "I can't do this," I murmured. Finally I moved to put my back against the brick outer wall of the armory itself. Immediately I felt safer...but now I could see absolutely nothing of the ceremonies taking place around the corner of the building.

Well, I thought, I can still hear them. So I stood, and listened. I managed to move out far enough to face the flags with hand over heart when they were raised, and the National Anthem sung. Then I scurried back to my safe zone. Time passed, and the walk and standing position began to produce too much pain in my knee. But I daren't sit on the wood chips under my feet. I wasn't sure i'd be able to get back up without help, and I was, after all, quite alone there. Whoever was speaking urged the guardsmen to bring out more chairs then, and when they did I waited till some were taken, then walked over long enough to pick one up and scurry back to my back-against-the-wall position, sitting in my newly acquired folding chair with some difficulty.

For a few minutes all was well. But soon people moved (no new arrivals this time). Another veteran was on my right, sitting in his reclining tricycle. Now two more joined him, and then one stepped into the shade near me. I hadn't thought of that --my refuge was also the only bit of shade in the area. Soon a mother and toddler took advantage of the shade as well, about 10 feet to my left. With more pearents and small squealing children in front of me as well, I was quite surrounded. I stuck it out, gritting my teeth, breathing slowly and deeply. The mom and her child finally moved back into the group of parents and kids, who all moved away a bit. I relaxed a little, with a heartfelt sigh of relief.

Too soon. A couple of teenaged girls scuttled into the shade vacated by the mom and toddler, but much closer. Then, as the ceremonies moved on, both of them walked up and bent over, craning their necks in an effort to see around the corner and catch what was happening. Not five inches from me. Completely cutting off any possible movement out of the now utterly surrounded trap I found myself in, between them to the fore and left, and the clump of three veterans and reclining tricycle to the right.

I stood it for about 15 heartbeats. Then I bolted. Out on the sunny lawn, placed so every person in the crowd was in sight, still I could not settle down. I kept whirling to check behind me, down the empty lawn and street. The speeches were too loud to allow me to hear nyone coming up on me. "I CAN'T DO THIS," I murmured again, hearing the incipient urge to run in my own words.

Finally I walked back to the Armory's outter wall, but further away from the corner. Maybe half the building now stood between myself and the ceremonies. As I set my back again against the wall, I saw one of the teen girls take my chair.

I listened to the speakers (two of them) telling everyone in slightly different words that we must take care of those who returned disturbed in body and/or mind. I cried, a little.

I've not felt so "marginalized" in a long time.

Today ,June 21, 2009, is Father's Day and the first day of summer. I miss my Dad and Mom. I had the most wonderful parents any kid could have. I am blessed to be married to a man that is a Dad to my daughter. I also think of all the summertime fun and things that I used to do growing up. Now my husband and are making memories together. We are both veterans. Who would ever guess that a Marine and an Army could get along! We both have our different disAbilities but work as a team! We think very much alike. We have ben married only four years but it seems longer. This summer, my husband will go salmon fishing in the ocean for the first time. Camping is now sleeping in our van. Better yet a hotel ,our bodies are not getting any younger.

An ode to Setraline Zoloft

Building walls of personal isolation
My mind a field of devastation
Reliving memories that should be buried and dead
Flushed with fear, heart pounding dread
Awakening thoughts of self destruction
Planning and scheming my extermination

Here's to Sertraline, my little blue pill
I'm told it can save me, it really will
Images blurred, dread diminished
Bleakness fades, thoughts of suicide nearly finished
This life might not be as good as it can get
But it sure as hell beats insanity or being dead.



My very warped and biased opinion is that Sertraline is some good schit.