The Huffington Post published a column I wrote today. It's about the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer. I am honored to be a part of this wonderful organization.
It was... special to see this published, but also very humbling. I hope this helps in my determination to get the word out and keep the conversation going.
09 October 2011
11 September 2011
11 September
Over the past week, and especially so today, there has been a steady stream of written observations of "Where were you" and "How has 9/11 affected you" type columns. It almost has taken on the feel of an obligatory first week of school "What I Did for Summer" essay.
And yet, it's more than that. It's part of our need to reflect, our need to share, and our definite need to connect. There's safety in numbers, and for a wound that (for some) is still deep and painful, we take comfort in knowing that we're not the only one's changed by 9/11 or who still feel it's resonating ripples.
I have a bit of a fluky memory, usually. It's odd what sticks. I have difficulty remembering what people are supposed to remember - names, childhood, etc. However, I have distinct images of 9/11... as it began to unfold, as it continued, and... well, it's never really stopped.
I remember because it was a day off of work. I worked at the time in the travel industry - rental cars. I'd turned on the TV to catch the news, news junkie that I am. Like so many others, I was horrified by the first plane, and instinctually knew what the second plane meant. I remember chatting with my very close friend, E, who would later become my wife. Discussing the significance of it. And, I remember calling in to work to see how things were going, discussing it further, and heading in to help out in the chaos.
(Little known fact: Much is said of the complete shutdown of America's airspace and the ensuing devastation that 9/11 had on airlines and air travel. Well, rental cars are hand-in-hand, and it was a wrecking ball to that industry, too. Suddenly, people found themselves at unplanned locations - wherever their airliner had landed in a hurry - and still needing to get to point B. Rental cars. And the cars were used extensively, and the fleet was dispersed nationwide. Compounding this was that it destroyed all the price models, fleet inventory tracking, etc. The system wasn't set up for it, and it took weeks to restore the fleet. Meanwhile, the calls were coming in. I remember looking at the monitoring board and seeing the wait time being measured in hours. It was like that for days.)
I'd gone in and started to try to manage the chaos, even while monitoring the news. At our center, many of the employees had relatives in NYC. I, too, had a cousin whom I believed worked at the WTC (I was lucky, she worked near there, but not IN there.) I was familiar with the Towers, and when I calculated the time of day, etc, I feared a death toll in the tens of thousands. I knew what this meant. And I was scared.
Throughout the next several days, I don't remember anything but work. Comforting employees in a small room, fielding questions, putting out small fires, and figuring out what was next.
It wasn't until Day 4 that I let myself feel 9/11. I remember sitting on the couch talking to E... and it just hit. A massive tsunami of emotion broke through all the walls I'd set up, and I cried. Crocodile tears. I remember her just holding me as I sobbed.
♦ ♦ ♦
My marriage to my first wife had been dying for some time. About a month after the attacks, we took a grand vacation... I hoped it would be an indicator to see if there was anything left saving. We toured the country, driving thousands of miles, looping through Florida, St. Louis, Chicago, Dayton, Philadelphia, and finally, driving home past DC. The Pentagon was an open wound. Like so many other wounds...
♦ ♦ ♦
So, it's now 10 years later. "What 9/11 Changed for Me". I look back and see how far Life has taken me. I no longer live at that house where I watched it unfold. I'm no longer married to that first wife, and the Lady who comforted me then, E, who became my second wife is now gone, too.
I've moved... hold on, let me count... fourteen times since then. I've completely changed careers, having left the car rental biz to join the US Army (see "Why I joined the Army"). I've been to Afghanistan, lived in Germany, returned to Germany, and will soon return to Afghanistan. So much has happened and changed in the past ten years... and when I really focus on it, almost all of those changes trace back to a single focus in time - 9.11.2001. It set in motion events that changed my life, with consequences large and small, realized and hidden, and quite likely, some not yet known.
That emotional moment on the couch turned significant... and E, who provided so much to me, also brought me beautiful children. M & T would not exist were it not for E & I being brought together. My career in the Army? Non existent without the war in Afghanistan, which began after 9/11. European living? Nope. Would the battle with cancer and how it's affected me have happened if we'd been stateside and not in Germany at a remote post with minimal and questionable docs? My friends, that is a question that knaws at me to this day, and is likely to never fully go away.
9.11.2001. For me, it really did change everything.
(And I wouldn't change that, at all.)
And yet, it's more than that. It's part of our need to reflect, our need to share, and our definite need to connect. There's safety in numbers, and for a wound that (for some) is still deep and painful, we take comfort in knowing that we're not the only one's changed by 9/11 or who still feel it's resonating ripples.
I have a bit of a fluky memory, usually. It's odd what sticks. I have difficulty remembering what people are supposed to remember - names, childhood, etc. However, I have distinct images of 9/11... as it began to unfold, as it continued, and... well, it's never really stopped.
I remember because it was a day off of work. I worked at the time in the travel industry - rental cars. I'd turned on the TV to catch the news, news junkie that I am. Like so many others, I was horrified by the first plane, and instinctually knew what the second plane meant. I remember chatting with my very close friend, E, who would later become my wife. Discussing the significance of it. And, I remember calling in to work to see how things were going, discussing it further, and heading in to help out in the chaos.
(Little known fact: Much is said of the complete shutdown of America's airspace and the ensuing devastation that 9/11 had on airlines and air travel. Well, rental cars are hand-in-hand, and it was a wrecking ball to that industry, too. Suddenly, people found themselves at unplanned locations - wherever their airliner had landed in a hurry - and still needing to get to point B. Rental cars. And the cars were used extensively, and the fleet was dispersed nationwide. Compounding this was that it destroyed all the price models, fleet inventory tracking, etc. The system wasn't set up for it, and it took weeks to restore the fleet. Meanwhile, the calls were coming in. I remember looking at the monitoring board and seeing the wait time being measured in hours. It was like that for days.)
I'd gone in and started to try to manage the chaos, even while monitoring the news. At our center, many of the employees had relatives in NYC. I, too, had a cousin whom I believed worked at the WTC (I was lucky, she worked near there, but not IN there.) I was familiar with the Towers, and when I calculated the time of day, etc, I feared a death toll in the tens of thousands. I knew what this meant. And I was scared.
Throughout the next several days, I don't remember anything but work. Comforting employees in a small room, fielding questions, putting out small fires, and figuring out what was next.
It wasn't until Day 4 that I let myself feel 9/11. I remember sitting on the couch talking to E... and it just hit. A massive tsunami of emotion broke through all the walls I'd set up, and I cried. Crocodile tears. I remember her just holding me as I sobbed.
♦ ♦ ♦
My marriage to my first wife had been dying for some time. About a month after the attacks, we took a grand vacation... I hoped it would be an indicator to see if there was anything left saving. We toured the country, driving thousands of miles, looping through Florida, St. Louis, Chicago, Dayton, Philadelphia, and finally, driving home past DC. The Pentagon was an open wound. Like so many other wounds...
♦ ♦ ♦
So, it's now 10 years later. "What 9/11 Changed for Me". I look back and see how far Life has taken me. I no longer live at that house where I watched it unfold. I'm no longer married to that first wife, and the Lady who comforted me then, E, who became my second wife is now gone, too.
I've moved... hold on, let me count... fourteen times since then. I've completely changed careers, having left the car rental biz to join the US Army (see "Why I joined the Army"). I've been to Afghanistan, lived in Germany, returned to Germany, and will soon return to Afghanistan. So much has happened and changed in the past ten years... and when I really focus on it, almost all of those changes trace back to a single focus in time - 9.11.2001. It set in motion events that changed my life, with consequences large and small, realized and hidden, and quite likely, some not yet known.
That emotional moment on the couch turned significant... and E, who provided so much to me, also brought me beautiful children. M & T would not exist were it not for E & I being brought together. My career in the Army? Non existent without the war in Afghanistan, which began after 9/11. European living? Nope. Would the battle with cancer and how it's affected me have happened if we'd been stateside and not in Germany at a remote post with minimal and questionable docs? My friends, that is a question that knaws at me to this day, and is likely to never fully go away.
9.11.2001. For me, it really did change everything.
(And I wouldn't change that, at all.)
29 August 2011
26 July 2011
A Lifetime Dream... Soon to Come True
I'm an hour early, which for those who know me well is an indicator itself of my excitement.
I have always been fascinated with in-flight refueling. Had I been able to join the USAF, that was the job I wanted - the Boomer, the crewmember who operates the refueling boom.
But, Life didn't work out that way. No biggie... but, it's always been there... the desire and fascination.
I've had fleeting opportunities before to fly with a tanker, but inevitably, there was always something that came up or prevented it from happening.
Yet, here I am again. So far, so good. It's my closest yet! On the other side of a wall sits a USAF KC-135R, and with any luck, I'll soon be IN it.
So, here we go... I cannot sit... I physically can not as I'm far too excited. I've been up since 0330, and completed a nearly 2 hour drive to get here. I've even interrupted my PCS chaos to be here, and as we all know, that time is precious.
But Dreams take precedence over practicality.
I am SO READY.
03 July 2011
Congratulations, Dad!
While I'm working and taking care of patients, as I write this, my Dad and his fiancee should be wrapping up their wedding vows.
Congratulations to both of you!
24 June 2011
Father-Daughter Ball
Tonight, M & I went to our first Father-Daughter Ball. I suppose it's one of the few nice benefits to my orders being delayed.
What an experience! First of all, due to the air-conditioning not working, it was hideously warm. But, aside from that...
It was really something to see all of these Soldiers (and one Airman, and one Soldier from Chile!) dressed in their finest uniforms, most with enough ribbons and awards and badges hanging off of them that finding fabric wasn't always easy. And the girls... wow, they were of all ages. I saw many barely tall enough to reach the knees, all the way to some who were just about to crest into impending womanhood.
It was not your typical military formal event.
First, people dance what they know... so, it was something to see the MSG with 20+ years dancing with his lil' young-un... and doing one of the finer "I'm a Little Teapot" that will sadly never be seen on Dancing With the Stars.
But, what struck me most were the slow dances. Reading uniforms, many of these Soldiers had missed 50% or more of their dance partners lives. The floor, and aisles, were packed as all of us ensured we had a chance to dance with the best dates we'll ever have.
Many were probably like me, teaching their girls how to dance. For me, that was interesting, as I am the epitome of the wallflower/white boy who can't dance. But, SHE didn't know that!
I choked back tears during the songs, "There Goes My Life" and "Butterfly Kisses". I am blessed with my little girl. And it was my Honor to have that dance. One day, I grudgingly accept, she'll have her arms wrapped around someone else and will be nestled into him... and I'll have to give her away.
But, she'll always be Daddy's Little Girl, and I had the First Dance. I suspect neither of us (nor many others there) will ever forget.
24 April 2011
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30 March 2011
T's Message to Mommy
18 March 2011
New Torture Device
Whee!
14 March 2011
Update on The Foot
Well, I'm sitting at the hospital waiting on a new prescription. We had the Big Unveiling of the surgery site. I was eager to see what it looked like. It'd been covered for almost two weeks, and finally, would see how things went. Did the pain come from the surgery, the foot itself, the bandage...? Well, it turns out I'm making good progress. No infection, light swelling... I just have to stay off of it still (ARRRGGGHHHH), still no water- thus no bath or shower (see previous ARRRGGGHHHH), and I can now begin the torture sessions of increasing mobility through interesting little devices. So, I await more of my sweet, wonderful drugs... and it was nice to experience fresh air. But soon, back to confinement. Wheeee. Sent from Yahoo! Mail on Android |
06 March 2011
07 February 2011
They Sit Amongst Us...
I'm having lunch in my hospital's dining facility. It's a typical scene. People are hustling back and forth, tv's are blaring the latest Hollywood scandal, some are on cell phones, and a few clusters are enjoying their break from the hectic pace of today's medicinal world.
And there, at one of the tables, he sits. If you didn't know, and few do, he's a Hero. I know this man. He's an honest-to-goodness H-E-R-O. He is a recipient of the Medal of Honor.
But, he sits quietly in anonymity. It's how he likes it.
He smiles and his voice is light and full of levity. Yet, if you look, you can see that his body tells a tale of a dark day long ago. Sixty years now, a lifetime for many.
And Life swirls around him...
Our Nation's heroes aren't always easy to spot. They're not always festooned with, deals, or on tv, or riding the back of a convertible with a young & pretty Miss Somethingorother riding beside.
They sit quietly among us, and we're blessed to have them here. For without them having faced those dark days of theirs, in battles that most hope that we'll never see (and a few fear they will), we would not have our light and carefree times now, when a Hero can sit amongst us... his daughter helping his gnarled body... in quiet anonymity.
And there, at one of the tables, he sits. If you didn't know, and few do, he's a Hero. I know this man. He's an honest-to-goodness H-E-R-O. He is a recipient of the Medal of Honor.
But, he sits quietly in anonymity. It's how he likes it.
He smiles and his voice is light and full of levity. Yet, if you look, you can see that his body tells a tale of a dark day long ago. Sixty years now, a lifetime for many.
And Life swirls around him...
Our Nation's heroes aren't always easy to spot. They're not always festooned with, deals, or on tv, or riding the back of a convertible with a young & pretty Miss Somethingorother riding beside.
They sit quietly among us, and we're blessed to have them here. For without them having faced those dark days of theirs, in battles that most hope that we'll never see (and a few fear they will), we would not have our light and carefree times now, when a Hero can sit amongst us... his daughter helping his gnarled body... in quiet anonymity.
31 December 2010
Poem by e.e. cummings
One of my closest friends (I'm looking at you, M*A) who's been with our family since the founding of this blog, sent me this poem. It seems to fit and is very appropriate.
i carry your heart with me(i carry it inThank you for this poem. It's very, very true.
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
30 December 2010
1460 vs 1
Well, here it is. Almost. Tomorrow is The Day, but I'm not going to quibble.
Tomorrow will mark four years. 1460 days have passed, and still there are days where tomorrow will feel like yesterday.
I'm trying to not slip into the tailspin that so easily tempts this time of year, to step into the yawning foggy abyss. I smile to those (who don't know) who wish me a jaunty Happy New Year. And I try to not let that dreary, mournful tune of Auld Lang Syne worm its way into my head.
But, it's not an easy battle. The countdown that has been ticking and building over the past couple of months is now practically bleating in my head. It's unavoidable, no matter how much I try to avoid it.
There's something very un-Scarlett about it; tomorrow is not "another day". It's The Day.
And don't think the symbolism isn't lost upon me. New Year's Eve - out with the old, the New Year bringing "new starts", a "fresh life", etc. Meh.
There are plenty of things I don't remember... where things are, names of people if I haven't seen them at least five (or fifty) times, and so forth. But, I remember every detail, every second, of The Day.
I remember it all... from start to end. And I remember the New Year... sitting there in a quiet house, not really knowing what else to do, not able to sleep, or anything else... watching the ball drop - feeling very detached from The World.
And so it is each year - as The World celebrates and tries to decide where to party, I cannot help but feel away from it all. I cannot envisage celebrating or partying. It seems to rank as sacriligeous as chugging communal wine at a frat party.
I'm going to attempt sleep, not that I've been all that successful the last several days, but that's not new. And for anyone who's paying attention who might have some control over such things... I'd really like to skip tomorrow.
Tomorrow will mark four years. 1460 days have passed, and still there are days where tomorrow will feel like yesterday.
I'm trying to not slip into the tailspin that so easily tempts this time of year, to step into the yawning foggy abyss. I smile to those (who don't know) who wish me a jaunty Happy New Year. And I try to not let that dreary, mournful tune of Auld Lang Syne worm its way into my head.
But, it's not an easy battle. The countdown that has been ticking and building over the past couple of months is now practically bleating in my head. It's unavoidable, no matter how much I try to avoid it.
There's something very un-Scarlett about it; tomorrow is not "another day". It's The Day.
And don't think the symbolism isn't lost upon me. New Year's Eve - out with the old, the New Year bringing "new starts", a "fresh life", etc. Meh.
There are plenty of things I don't remember... where things are, names of people if I haven't seen them at least five (or fifty) times, and so forth. But, I remember every detail, every second, of The Day.
I remember it all... from start to end. And I remember the New Year... sitting there in a quiet house, not really knowing what else to do, not able to sleep, or anything else... watching the ball drop - feeling very detached from The World.
And so it is each year - as The World celebrates and tries to decide where to party, I cannot help but feel away from it all. I cannot envisage celebrating or partying. It seems to rank as sacriligeous as chugging communal wine at a frat party.
I'm going to attempt sleep, not that I've been all that successful the last several days, but that's not new. And for anyone who's paying attention who might have some control over such things... I'd really like to skip tomorrow.
24 December 2010
20 December 2010
21 November 2010
What do you think was the greatest invention in your lifetime?
The personal computer. It revolutionized the flow of information, eventually to all corners of the globe. From that flow of information, everything else follows - new inventions, quest for knowledge, even revolutions in government.
01 November 2010
That Time of Year (Again)
It’s that time of year… again. My mind gears towards numbers and dates. As such, around this time of year, my mind automatically starts what I’ve come to call The Countdown. Many of the significant dates of 2005-2006 landed in November and December. Lots of ‘little anniversaries’. And I remember them all.
It ends up starting a bit of a mini-depression, but I’ve gotten better at riding through it.
Still, one thing… well, one of many, I suppose… of the whole process and aftermath of losing someone is this: You do get better at getting through and adapting to the New Life. However, no matter how much time passes, from time to time… a memory will come along and slap you upside your head.
The past day or two, I’ve kinda felt something… dragging at me. Hard to explain, just didn’t feel ‘right’. Was really feeling E. Flipping through tonight, I caught what it was. A new commercial… I’d heard it vaguely the other day, but was in another room, and hadn’t realized it. It’s a new toy, something about a Weeble treehouse. I have a crystal clear memory of E sitting on the floor, rocking and signing with the kidlets, “Weeble wobble…. Weeble Wobble… Weebles wobble but they don’t fall… DOWN!” Made me smile and giggle back then… now, well, I smile… and feel wistful.
And The Countdown has begun.
22 August 2010
Last Combat Brigade Leaves Iraq
It's quite the news this week. The "last" combat brigade has left Iraq. The war is over! Yay!
Or...
Not quite.
We still have 50K troops in Iraq, and they're now called "Advise and Assist Brigades". Snort. Whatever. The point that the media seems to have missed is this: Have the insurgents and al-Qaeda withdrawn the last of their combat troops? No?
Hmmm... then I guess the war isn't over (sorry about the timetable), and that brings us to one last salient point. When the bullets and IEDs and other explosive munitions fly between people, it doesn't matter if they're called "combat" troops or not... it's still combat.
War doesn't end because of the press release announcing it's over... it ends when both sides agree it's over. Whether by treaty, defeat, annihilation, whatever.
Or...
Not quite.
We still have 50K troops in Iraq, and they're now called "Advise and Assist Brigades". Snort. Whatever. The point that the media seems to have missed is this: Have the insurgents and al-Qaeda withdrawn the last of their combat troops? No?
Hmmm... then I guess the war isn't over (sorry about the timetable), and that brings us to one last salient point. When the bullets and IEDs and other explosive munitions fly between people, it doesn't matter if they're called "combat" troops or not... it's still combat.
War doesn't end because of the press release announcing it's over... it ends when both sides agree it's over. Whether by treaty, defeat, annihilation, whatever.
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