Artist: Lauryn Hill
Album: The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill
Song: Tell Him

*Talking*
Yo heh heh tell him it's like uhh you know uhh
*Singing*
Sweet sweet tell him

Let me be patient let me be kind
Make me unselfish without being blind
Though I may suffer I'll envy it not
And endure what comes
Cause he's all that I got and
tell him...

Chorus
Tell him I need him [yeah]
Tell him I love him [tell him]
And it'll be alright
*Background singing* Telll himmm be alright be alright
Tell him tell him I need him
Tell him I love him
It'll be alright

Now I may have faith to make mountains fall
But if I lack love then I am nothin' at all
I can give away everything I possess
But left without love then I have no happiness
I know I'm imperfect [I know I'm imperfect]
& not without sin [& not without sin]
But now that I'm older all childish things end
and tell him...

Chorus

Bridge
I'll never be jealous
And I won't be too kind
Cause love is not boastful
Oooh and love is not loud
Tell him I need him
Tell him I love him
Everything's gonna be alright [w/ adlibs]
Oooh oooh yeah yeah aww yeah

Now I may have wisdom and knowledge on Earth
But if I speak wrong then what is it worth?
See what we now know is nothing compared
to the love that was shown when our lives were spared
and tell him...

"Do what you feel in your heart to be right - for you'll be criticized anyway. You'll be damned if you do, and damned if you don't." Eleanor Roosevelt

"Some people regard private enterprise as a predatory tiger to be shot. Others look on it as a cow they can milk. Not enough people see it as a healthy horse, pulling a sturdy wagon."
- Winston Churchill

"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism."
- Winston Churchill

"Courage is going from failure to failure without losing enthusiasm."
- Winston Churchill

"Arm yourselves, and be ye men of valor, and be in readiness for the conflict; for it is better
for us to perish in battle than to look upon the outrage of our nation and our altar."
- Prime Minister Winston Churchill

"Do what you feel in your heart to be right - for you'll be criticized anyway. You'll be damned if you do, and damned if you don't." Eleanor Roosevelt

When We Came Home


I did not kill for the fun
We carried our packs and our gun
You called us names we dont deserve
Our country called we proudly served

We watched as our friends did die
In the jungles and in the sky
Did you see the pain in our eyes
As you mocked us and told your lies

We were brothers fighting side by side
Closer than family for our very lives
As we travelled day and night
Trying to stay just out of site

Then we come back to our home
What we see hurts us to the bone
So we suffer with our pain
Some walked crippled with a cane

You did not care just the same
You mocked us and called us names
So many years we have suffered alone
Just wanting to be welcomed home

Have you not seen the Wall
Standing so very tall
On it are written in the stone
All the names never coming home

The names of so many that are lost
They paid the price the highest cost
There names are there for all to see
So that you and i could be free

So next time you see our flag
Look at it and be glad
When you see a Vet take the time
To thank him for your freedom and mine.


Raymond Lee
March 2003

Ray, One die hard true blue American Military supporter. Member of Troll Hunter Squadron.....Aerial Gunner

[This message was edited by THANKUVETS on Wed, 10 March 2004 at 17:07.]

[This message was edited by cherryread on Tue, 16 March 2004 at 12:10.]

Upon this honored wall of stone,
You're together again, and not alone.
Together you laughed, together you cried,
Together you fought, together you died.

Together you stand in history,
Upon this wall for all to see.
Each name evokes a young man's face,
A warrior that stood, to take his place,


To fight and die for liberty,
So others could live a life that's free.
If there's a place where heros stand,
Surely you've gone to join their band.

You've left the horrors of war behind,
And crossed Death's bridge to hopefully find.
The peace denied you in this life,
Of endless wars and constant strife.

Together you walk, with head held high,
No storm clouds gather to darken your sky.
The black man, red man, brown and white,
Will walk as one , no more to fight.

You're not forgotten, and will never be,
This stone bears witness for all to see.
Each one of you made the sacrifice,
And paid with life, the ultimate price.

Each one that died left a few of here,
To show the world with a fallen tear.
We'll never forget and always stand true,
To the memory of each one of you.

As long as there's life within my breast,
I'll take my place and stand with the rest.
And when it's my time to leave this land,
I hope you'll welcome me to your hero's band!


Roger Heard
USMC 66-70
Nam 68-69

Served With Honor--Walk With Pride
Semper Fi

I Am the Flag of the

UNITED STATES

Of America

I am the flag of the United States of America.
My name is Old Glory.
I fly atop the world's tallest buildings.
I stand watch in America's halls of justice.
I fly majestically over institutions of learning.
I stand guard with power in the world.
Look up and see me.

I stand for peace, honor, truth and justice.
I stand for freedom.
I am confident.
I am arrogant.
I am proud.

When I am flown with my fellow banners,
My head is a little higher,
My colors a little truer.

I bow to no one!
I am recognized all over the world.
I am worshipped - I am saluted.
I am loved - I am revered.
I am respected - and I am feared.

I have fought in every battle

of every war

for more then 200 years.


I was flown at Valley Forge,

Gettysburg, Shiloh and Appamatox.
I was there at San Juan Hill,

the trenches of France,
in the Argonne Forest,

Anzio, Rome and the beaches of Normandy.


Guam, Okinawa, Korea and

KheSan, Saigon, Vietnam know me.
I was there.
I led my troops, I was dirty, battleworn and tired,
But my soldiers cheered me and I was proud.

I have been burned, torn and trampled on the

streets of countries I have helped set free.
It does not hurt for I am invincible.
I have been soiled upon, burned, torn and

trampled in the streets of my country.
And when it's done by those

Whom I've served in battle - it hurts.
But I shall overcome - for I am strong.

I have slipped the bonds of Earth

and stood watch over the uncharted

frontiers of space from my vantage point on the moon.
I have borne silent witness to all of America's finest hours.

But my finest hours are yet to come.

When I am torn into strips and used as bandages

for my wounded comrades on the battlefield,
When I am flown at half-mast to honor my soldier,
Or when I lie in the trembling arms of a grieving parent
at the grave of their fallen son or daughter,

I am proud.



Author Unknown

I can be sweet...

Or Not...

http://pzzzz.tripod.com/ptsd.html

ptsd

by Gary Jacobson © 2001




"Old Dog out..." aka "Alpha Dog"

[This message was edited by cherryread on Tue, 16 March 2004 at 12:13.]

Subject: THE BRICK

If God brings you to it, He will bring you through it.



THE BRICK

A young and successful executive was traveling down a neighborhood
street, going a bit too fast in his new Jaguar. He was watching for kids
darting out from between parked cars and slowed down when he thought he
saw something. As his car passed, no children appeared. Instead, a brick
smashed into the Jag's side door!
He slammed on the brakes and backed the Jag back to the spot where the
brick had been thrown. The angry driver then jumped out of the car,
grabbed the nearest kid and pushed him up against a parked car shouting,
"What was that all about and who are you? Just what the heck are you
doing? That's a new car and that brick you threw is going to cost a lot
of money. Why did you do it?"
The young boy was apologetic. "Please, mister... please, I'm sorry but I
didn't know what else to do," He pleaded. "I threw the brick because no
one else would stop..."
With tears dripping down his face and off his chin, the youth pointed to
a spot just around a parked car. "It's my brother," he said. "He rolled
off the curb and fell out of his wheelchair and I can't lift him up."
Now sobbing, the boy asked the stunned executive, "Would you please help
me get him back into his wheelchair? He's hurt and he's too heavy for
me."
Moved beyond words, the driver tried to swallow the rapidly swelling
lump in his throat. He hurriedly lifted the handicapped boy back into
the wheelchair, then took out a linen handkerchief and dabbed at the
fresh scrapes and cuts. A quick look told him everything was going to be
okay. "Thank you and may God bless you," the grateful child told the
stranger. Too shook up for words, the man simply watched the boy push his
wheelchair-bound brother down the sidewalk toward their home.
It was a long, slow walk back to the Jaguar. The damage was very
noticeable, but the driver never bothered to repair the dented side door.
He kept the dent there to remind him of this message "Don't go through
life so fast that someone has to throw a brick at you to get your
attention!" God whispers in our souls and speaks to our hearts.
Sometimes when we don't have time to listen, He has to throw a brick at
us.
It's our choice to listen or not.

Thought for the Day:

If God had a refrigerator, your picture would be on it.

If He had a wallet, your photo would be in it.

He sends you flowers every spring.

He sends you a sunrise every morning.

Face it - He is crazy about you!

God didn't promise days without pain, laughter without sorrow, sun
without rain, but He did promise strength for the day, comfort for the
tears, and light for the way.

Send this to every "beautiful person" you wish to bless.

I was a girl of just 18
A midwest girl, suburban dreams
yet as I grew I heard the tales
of my dad's World War,
a submariner's tales.

So I joined up, an Army girl,
dressed in green I set sail,
and ended up at Ft. Sam,
Army Burn Center during Vietnam.

With eyes of hero worship wide
I shared a lounge with the Army's pride,
those Green Berets atop their head,
these men of steel,
their job to tred
behind the lines in Vietnam,
to save their bros, these medics strong
to save their small unit bros,
ambushed by the Viet Cong.

We all hopped from Ft. Sam, to Bragg,
they went to Nam, back to Bragg and Sam,
my haunted brothers, oh no, I cried,
my heros tall, yet aged so, they cried
or were addicted so, burned and wounded,
though most of their wounds,
those did not show, unless you looked
into those eyes,
yes I grew up there overnight.
Yes, I grew up there and joined the fight.

To comfort them, to lift them up,
You bet we tipped many a cup,
and chainsmoked, and partied hard,
and trembling they shared it through darkest nights.

I donned sweet perfumes,
mini skirts were short,
my hair and makeup the first they saw
as they returned from death grip's mawl.

I held their hands,
sat by white beds,
and heard their stories
of their dead,
those ones they tried
but couldn't save,
the jungle deep their bloody graves.

Of bodies pulled over their head,
of bleeding medics, men on their back,
alone back through those jungle tracks
to get just one to help, just one....
We cried together when the story was done.

I saw their jumps, their pics so dread,
I loved them all, my beloved men,
I lost a few, and there were some,
too wounded then by things they'd done,
or couldn't do to save their buds,
so I visited wards locked up tight,
with wrists wearing bandages of white,

I grieved for those behind sunglasses dark,
drug addictions destroying their lives.
Those were the worst, my wounded bros,
we couldn't save them,
they were too far down the road.

I then went on to Walter Reid,
I watched the officers in robes,
shuffle the halls,
locked in a prison
of agonies so deep, so dark,
that they had left this world behind,
but still they walked, and walked, and walked,
Oh, Dear Lord, Break not my heart.

We donned those dresses again in DC,
and hit the clubs with our amputees,
to show them that their missing arm or arms,
or leg, or legs,
Hey my bros, that does no harm.
In dark clubs we pushed those chairs,
they roared, they hooted, they were alive,
with ladies so pretty, the Army's pride.

Decades have passed, I suffer still
for all of them, now I'm a mom with an Army son.
I watch tv, another war...Iraq...
And my fears come in the dark,
who'll dance with them, who'll hold their hands,
who'll smell so sweet, who'll visit them,
for now it's all just women who act like men,
Army gals so strong, so true,
yet so tough now,
what will they do?

WACS no more, not Vietnam.
But joy oh joy, I've found a few,
as decades pass, I've found a few,
my combat vets from the Nam,
and now I'm home and once again
in my spot in life, back to Ft. Sam,
but no it's not fort this time,
it's computers, phones and tons of time.

Yes we are old and we've changed so,
but they are all still my beloved bros.

They ease my realistic mommy fears.
Maybe I'll see my Army son next year.
If I'm blessed enough to see him,
I'll look in his eyes,
heart beating wild,
Oh Please My God,
Please God, not those haunted eyes.

Lynne L. Pierson
US WAC VET (70/71)
Proud Mother of Sgt. Dan Pierson

I believe love given is the secret of life...Me

Lynne, That was great.

Cherry, Awesome words.

Not posting mine. Nuff said.


"Old Dog out..." aka "Alpha Dog"

Pleased to meet you
Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah
But what's confusing you
Is just the nature of my game

~ Friends Without Faces ~


We sit and we type, and we stare at our screens;
We all have to wonder what this possibly means.
With our mouse we roam, through the rooms in a maze;
Looking for something or someone, as we sit in a daze.
We chat with each other, we type all our woes;
Small groups we do form, and gang up on our foes.
We wait for somebody to type out our name;
We want recognition, but it is always the same.
We give kisses and hugs, and sometimes flirt;
In PMs (IMs) we chat deeply, and reveal why we hurt.
We do form friendships -- and why, we don't know;
But some of these friendships will flourish and grow.
Why is it on screen, we can be so bold?
Telling our secrets that have never been told.
Why is it we share the thoughts in our mind
with those we can't see, as though we were blind?
The answer is simple; It's as clear as a bell.
We all have our problems and need someone to tell.
We can't tell real people, but tell someone we must;
So we turn to the computer, and to those we can trust.
Even though it is crazy, the truth still remains:
There are Friends Without Faces, and odd little names.

Author unknown

Our Young People In Uniform


The average age of the military man is 19 years.

He is a short haired, tight-muscled kid who, under normal circumstances is considered by society as half man, half boy. Not yet dry behind the ears, not old enough to buy a beer, but old enough to die for his country.

He never really cared much for work and he would rather wax his own car than wash his father's; but he has never collected unemployment either.

He's a recent High School graduate; he was probably an average student, pursued some form of sport activities, drives a ten year old jalopy, and has a steady girlfriend that either broke up with him when he left, or swears to be waiting when he returns from half a world away.

He listens to rock and roll or hip-hop or rap or jazz or swing and 155mm Howitzers.

He is 10 or 15 pounds lighter now than when he was at home because he is working or fighting from before dawn to well after dusk.

He has trouble spelling, thus letter writing is a pain for him, but he can field strip a rifle in 30 seconds and reassemble it in less time in the dark.

He can recite to you the nomenclature of a machine gun or grenade launcher and use either one effectively if he must.

He digs foxholes and latrines and can apply first aid like a professional.

He can march until he is told to stop or stop until he is told to march.

He obeys orders instantly and without hesitation, but he is not without spirit or individual dignity.

He is self-sufficient. He has two sets of fatigues: he washes one and wears the other. He keeps his canteens full and his feet dry.

He sometimes forgets to brush his teeth, but never to clean his rifle.

He can cook his own meals, mend his own clothes, and fix his own hurts.
If you're thirsty, he'll share his water with you; if you are hungry, his food.

He'll even split his ammunition with you in the midst of battle when you run low.

He has learned to use his hands like weapons and weapons like they were his hands. He can save your life - or take it, because that is his job.

He will often do twice the work of a civilian, draw half the pay and still find ironic humor in it all. He has seen more suffering and death than he should have in his short lifetime.

He has stood atop mountains of dead bodies, and helped to create them.

He has wept in public and in private, for friends who have fallen in combat and is unashamed.

He feels every note of the National Anthem vibrate through his body while at rigid attention, while tempering the burning desire to 'square-away' those around him who haven't bothered to stand, remove their hat, or even stop talking. In an odd twist, day in and day out, far from home, he defends their right to be disrespectful.

Just as did his Father, Grandfather, and Great-grandfather, he is paying the price for our freedom.

Beardless or not, he is not a boy.

He is the American Fighting Man that has kept this country free for over 200 years.

He has asked nothing in return, except our friendship and understanding.

Remember him, always, for he has earned our respect and admiration with his blood.

For our Military Prayer wheel for our military...please don't break it Please send this on after a short prayer.

Prayer Wheel "Lord, hold our troops in your loving hands. Protect them as they protect us.

Bless them and their families for the selfless acts they perform for us in our time of need. Amen."

Prayer Wheel: When you receive this, please stop for a moment and say a prayer for our ground troops in Afghanistan, sailors on ships, and airmen in the air, and for those preparing for war with Iraq. There is nothing attached.... This can be very powerful....

Just send this to all the people in your address book. Do not stop

The wheel, please.... Of all the gifts you could give a US Soldier,
Sailor, Marine or Airman, prayer is the very best one.


Contributed on the Internet

Survivor Psalm

by Frank Ochberg, MD
and Gift From Within

I have been victimized.
I was in a fight that was
not a fair fight.
I did not ask for the fight.
I lost.
There is no shame in losing
such fights.
I have reached the stage of
survivor and am no longer a
slave of victim status.
I look back with sadness
rather than hate.
I look forward with hope
rather than despair.
I may never forget, but I need
not constantly remember.
I was a victim.
I am a survivor.


http://www.giftfromwithin.org/html/poems.html

My Crack Pot Friends


A water bearer in India had two large pots, each hung on the ends of a

pole which he carried across his neck. One of the pots had a crack in

it, while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion

of water. At the end of the long walk from the stream to the house, the

cracked pot arrived only half full. For a full two years this went on

daily, with the bearer delivering only one and a half pots full of water

to his house. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, perfect

for which it was made. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own

imperfection, and miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it

had been made to do. After 2 years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure,

it spoke to the water bearer one day by the stream. "I am ashamed of

myself, and I want to apologize to you. I have been able to deliver only

half my load because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all

the way back to your house. Because of my flaws, you have to do all of

this work, and you don't get full value from your efforts," the pot

said. The bearer said to the pot, "Did you notice that there were flowers

only on your side of the path, but not on the other pot's side? That's

because I have always known about your flaw, and I planted flower

seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back, you've

watered them. For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful

flowers to decorate the table. Without you being just the way you are,

there would not be this beauty to grace the house."

Moral: Each of us has

our own unique flaws. We're all cracked pots. But it's the cracks and

flaws we each have that make our lives together so very interesting and

rewarding. You've just got to take each person for what they are, and

look for the good in them.

Blessed are the flexible, for they shall not be bent out of shape.

Remember to appreciate all the different people in your life!

THANK YOU ALL MY CRACKPOT FRIENDS!


Contributed on the Internet

My flaws they are many,
my virtues are few.
My life was a secret,
that no body knew.

My fears they are many,
my comtentments are few.
My secrets I'm sharing,
you all help me through.

My trials are many,
my friendships are few.
My hand it was reaching,
and then I found YOU.

Now, my life's not so lonely,
my setbacks are few.
My friends I have found,
And this feeling's so new.

me

I can be sweet...

Or Not...

OH SWEETIE,

YOU GET A HUG FOR THAT ONE. BEAUTIFUL !!!!!!!

LYNNE

I believe love given is the secret of life...Me

I went to visit my uncle in the hospital today. That's a story for later.

On the way in I recognised the security officer at the entrance. We haven't seen each other since 1995, when we worked security together at the World Trade Center.

My wife was astonished to see me hug someone. I actually fought back tears. Told him how good it was to see him.

We talked for awhile. So many good people we worked with. Gone...

I can't begin to describe the feeling when I saw his face from a distance and knew that someone else I worked with was alive.

I had searched the list of names many times for those I knew. His was not one of them, but to actually see him meant something.

His name is Al.

Thank God for you and Al,I hope you will stay in touch with him Bro,It will be good for you both And never forget that we are here for you and Al Take Care GHG

YOUR CROSS


Whatever your cross
Whatever your pain
There will always be sunshine.
After the rain
Perhaps you may stumble
Perhaps even fall
But God's always there
To help you through it all.

[This message was edited by cherryread on Tue, 16 March 2004 at 12:15.]

Sometimes in our lives, we all have pain, we all have sorrow.
But if we are wise, we know that there's always tomorrow.
Lean on me, when you're not strong and I'll be your friend.
I'll help you carry on, for it won't be long 'til I'm gonna need somebody
to lean on.
Please swallow your pride, if have things you need to borrow.
For no one can fill those needs that you won't let show.
You just call on me brother when you need a hand.
We all need somebody to lean on.
I just might have a problem that you'll understand.
We all need somebody to lean on.
Lean on me when you't not strong, and I'll be your friend.
I'll help you carry on, for it won't be long 'til I'm gonna' need
somebody to lean on.
You just call on me brother if you need a friend.
We all need somebody to lean on.
I just might have a problem that you'll understand.
We all need somebody to lean on.
If there is a load you have to bear that you can't carry.
I'm right up the road, I'll share your load if you just call me.
Call me (if you need a friend)
Call me

I can be sweet...

Or Not...

MPORTANT --- TO SPOUSES AND ALL
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The English language inadequately covers a complex concept called "LOVE".

15 years ago, while studying the New Testament I learned that it was originally written in the Greek language WHICH HAS MANY MORE WORDS that are so much MORE SPECIFIC than our English language.

In Greek there are THREE DIFFERENT SPECIFIC WORDS for our English concept of the word "LOVE".

One of the many things I have learned on this forum is a high level of respect for SPOUSES AND SIGNIFICANT OTHERS OF OUR PTSD GUYS AND MY HUBBY AS A SPOUSE.

This is a direct result of CHERRYREAD and the VARIOUS SPOUSES posting to the forum.

GOD BLESS YOU ALL FOR TEACHING ME TO UNDERSTAND THE STRUGGLE FROM THE OTHER SIDE OF OUR HOME LIVES.

I have also realized that FEMALE SPOUSES/SIG. OTHERS often think that WE THREE GALS who post regularly on the forum, are a threat or burden to SUFFERING FEMALE SPOUSES/SIG. OTHERS.

THAT REALLY BURDENS MY HEART.

OK........This is an effort to ease some minds and clear up some misunderstandings that float around the forum, emails and our homes.

I will also be sending this by PERSONAL EMAIL TO ALL ON THE FORUM who I now have addresses for already.

I ask that all who receive this please print this out and give it to their SPOUSES/SIG. OTHERS.

It's our language that causes the misunderstandings SO....

I'm just sharing some knowledge I have and hope it eases some minds.

GREEK WORDS FOR LOVE ----3 TOTAL WORDS

FOR THREE DIFFERENT RADICALLY DIFFERENT TYPES OF "LOVE".


FIRST ONE: "PHILEO"

This type of LOVE is the basis of our American City: Philadelphia

It's BROTHERLY LOVE,

It's FRIENDSHIP AND SUPPORT AND CARING BETWEEN ANY TWO PEOPLE ON EARTH.

It's NOT gender specific.

(i.e., can exist betw/a guy and a gal, or two gals, as well as between two guys)

PHILEO LOVE IS WHAT WE ALL ON THIS FORUM HAVE FOR EACH OTHER AND WHEN WE THREE GALS WHO POST REGULARLY SAY:

"I LOVE YOU"

IT MEANS WE CARE, WE SUPPORT, WE HAVE YOUR BACK,

IT MEANS THAT WONDERFUL BOND THAT EXISTS BETW/ ALL MIL. PERSONNEL, PAST AND PRESENT, THAT EXISTS BETW/ VETS, SOLDIERS

(I personally feel this strongly as a female vet for the males on this forum)

THERE IS NO SEXUALITY OR DESIRE TO JUMP SOMEONE'S BONES, OR USURP A SPOUSE/SIG. OTHER FEMALE'S MAN.

I can speak freely for Linda, Medic and I...

that truly WE ALL THREE HAVE THIS WONDERFULLY INNOCENT AND IMPORTANT "PHILEO" LOVE FOR THE GUYS ON THIS FORUM.

ok........ THE SECOND GREEK WORD FOR "LOVE"

It's "AGAPE" LOVE........

That's the unconditional love that those who believe in a Christian God who is all powerful, everywhere at once, knows all, sees all, understands all and ....

NO HUMAN ON EARTH CAN DO THIS.....

IT'S UNCONDITIONAL LOVE BEYOND THE CAPABILITIES OF A HUMAN BEING

although, we ALL CAN always STRIVE to be MORE LIKE THIS IN OUR DEALINGS WITH OTHERS as we daily struggle through our walks in life.

I'm big on striving but fail a lot as we all do. All humans are fallible and that's a fact, Jack.

ok...........

KEEP IN MIND THAT the crappy, inadequate one word only for a complex three specific kinds of love, that nasty English word "love" is blecho.

Our language defects hurt others so often....not anyone's FAULT, JUST A DARNED CRAPPY LANGUAGE WE USE.

ok.........

The THIRD specific Greek Word for "LOVE" is....

........ (you'll like this since I CAN'T REMEMBER THE EXACT GREEK WORD......DUH......and would have to dig through a jillion papers in assorted boxes to remember it, lololol)

so...... will that 3rd Greek Word is ____________ (blank cause I've forgotten the exact Greek word, ugh and lol).

But, I sure as heck remember the concept it covers:

IT'S SEXUAL, PASSION, MAKING LOVE, DIG IN THE FINGERNAILS AND CURL THE TOES.

(Now, I KNOW someone is chuckling or smiling now so quit it, I'm being a teacher and serious, lololol and ugh)....

IT AIN'T A HAPPENING WITH WE GALS ON THIS FORUM. THAT'S THE STUFF THAT HAPPENS W/YOUR SPOUSE/SIG. OTHER. (HOPEFULLY IF ptsd HASN'T MESSED UP YOUR RELATIONSHIP ALREADY, TRIPLE UGH TO THAT !!!!!).

-----------------------------------------------

So, we three gals here ARE THE AGAPE, BROTHERLY, FRIENDSHIP, BONDING SUPPORT GALS.

HOPEFULLY THIS HELPS ALLEVIATE MISUNDERSTANDINGS IN OUR OWN HOMES.

AGAIN, I ASK ALL FORUM MEMBERS TO PLEASE PRINT THIS POST OR THE PERSONAL EMAIL I ALSO SEND REGARDING OUR CRAPPY LANGUAGE.

MY PURPOSE FOR POSTING THIS IS TO:

1) Support and improve our home lives

2) Reassure spouses/sig. others that when we
gals/guys say " I LOVE YOU " we mean it in the
innocent, friendship "PHILEO" SENSE ALWAYS.

3) Let all know EXACTLY WHERE AND HOW MEDIC, LINDA AND I feel about the guys on this forum.

4) And.....also LET OUR SPOUSES/SIG. OTHERS KNOW and understand that none of us WANT TO HURT OR BURDEN ANYONE'S HOME LIFE SITUATION OR ADD TO ANYONE'S PAIN.

If #4 in that list was a lie, then so too would be all our posts and support on this forum for each other.

PHILEO FRIENDSHIP means WE EACH WANT EACH OTHER'S HOME LIVES TO IMPROVE......

.....NOT DETERIORATE.......

.....AND WE SURE AS HE DOUBLE L HOCKEY PUCK,
do NOT NOT NOT WANT MORE PAIN FOR OUR BUDS

.....AND/OR the AMAZING SPOUSES/SIG. OTHERS OF PTSDers on THIS FORUM.

I hope and pray this eases some minds and is taken in the true sense of caring that I've invested in writing these words.

Hopefully this sharing of knowledge will help someone somewhere.

MOM

I believe love given is the secret of life...Me
posted Wed, 16 April 03 05:30

I believe love given is the secret of life...Me