Til The Season Comes Again/We Will Always Have Christmas

Dear Caleb,
The sunset was so vibrant. The sky was painted pink, and the sun like an orange, shone along the edge of the  plains in invitation to the celebration beyond sunset...as if heaven was right there - on the other side of the horizon.
So close.
If only it was that easy to drive to the edge of time to see you.

It was so beautiful.
To think you are living in the midst of perfect beauty is amazing.


You know I've been listening to Christmas carols.
Something we always enjoyed - even in the middle of July.
I can imagine you singing with all of heaven in the presence of the King we adore.
I know my limited imagination doesn't even touch on how wonderful it is.

There was this Christmas song on the radio about the time of the sunset.
I'd never heard it before, and the lyrics were so - us.
It touched my heart.
It was our song...our family.
It made me smile, and cry.

I'll share some of the lyrics -
"Come gather round the table, in the spirit of family and friends.
And we'll all join hands and remember this moment, til the season comes round again."

We all remember and cherish the moment - the time we shared last Christmas
when you were home.
Gathered round the table, laughing and talking and playing games, and eating.
Joining hands in prayer and thanksgiving for being together again, for the gift of Christmas.
It was epic.

Oh, and these lines - I know how much you loved taking pictures (smile.)
"Let's all smile for the picture, And we'll hold it as long as we can.
May it carry us through, should we ever get lonely til the season comes round again."

Yes, that smiley Christmas picture from last year is priceless.
Oh, the memories of Christmas with you.
All those pictures - I treasure them all, you know.
Remember the Santa hats, and all the times of trying to get us all in the picture
while the timer was ticking away on the camera.
I see last year's picture everyday (it's saved on my phone you know.)
It carries me through when I get lonely for your smile.
Ah, til the season comes round again.

I like these lines -
"One night, holy and bright, Shining with love from our hearts.
By a warm fire, let's lift our heads high and be thankful we're here
Til this time next year."

Last Christmas was holy and bright - I know the Lord blessed our time together.
It was such a wonderful time.
You've always kept the fire going - yes, in the fireplace, and in our hearts, too.
It was so special having you home - one more Christmas.
I never took our Christmases for granted...ever.
The most joyous time of the year.
Playing games, visiting and laughing and staying up late, snacking and feasting...
Christmas Eve services, reading the Christmas story and praying as a family.
All those moments live in my heart.
I'm so glad for every single moment we shared together.

Oh my dear son, I didn't know we wouldn't have time together this year as the song states, and yet
I know -
We will always have Christmas.
We will have Christmas together- even if we are apart.
We are together in Christ, in the spirit of his love.
Nothing can ever take that away.

We just didn't know we would have to wait for a season in the future to be together again -
beyond this life.

My dear son,
it is so hard not to have you here with us.
I long for your hug, your presence, your smile and laughter.

Yet, we know - you are in the best place of all.
You are celebrating Christmas everyday,
till we are together again.

I so anticipate that season
when we can all hold hands as a family, and laugh and smile together again...
and hug, and praise Jesus in person.

Till then-
sweet son of mine, know that we will make the best of the time we have here, like you did.
We will look forward to the new year - it brings us that much closer to being with you and Jesus.
Evidently, we still have work to do here (smile.)
So, we will live our lives to the fullest - like you did.
We will carry you with us in our hearts, remembering your witty wisdom, and tremendous example of a life well-lived.

Till then-
we will cherish the moment in time we had together with you, when we all held hands and laughed and loved.

When we get together this year as a family, I know you will be with us in spirit, in our hearts, and
on that night,
holy and bright, shining with love from our hearts,
by a warm fire,
we will lift our heads high and we will think of you -

We will pray and be thankful for Christmas, for Christ our Messiah.
and that you blessed us all so much while you were here.
We will rejoice because you live beyond this life, and you are here in our hearts -
And that one day,
one very fine day,
we will be together.

I can't wait!

Till then-
Til the season we're together again -

Merry Christmas my son.
I love you forever,
Mom


Here is the song-
Listen to this short but touching song.

Yes, we will all be together again.

 

When The Mountain Looks Too High Don't Look At The Potatoes

It's been a tough few days.
It's getting closer to Thanksgiving, and today is the nine month mark of when Caleb left this world.
My days have been in teary shambles as I've tried to keep going.
Last night I couldn't go anymore.
Everything was crashing in and the reality of the absence of my son was too evident.
I had been to the cemetery, and my insides sunk.
How could it be that the cemetery is part of my life now?
I rush out there some days, to check on things, put out new arrangements and make sure there are no tumbleweeds nesting near his spot.
I tossed some tumbleweeds away, and cleared off the pine needles. Seeing his name on the marker broke my heart.
I crumbled as I drove away.

I had told myself I could do Thanksgiving.
If I did a little bit at a time it would be all right.
My husband picked up a turkey while I was gone to Texas.
One thing out of the way.
When I got home I picked up a few things here and there.

But, yesterday did it.
It started with two bags of red potatoes, and a big bag of sweet potatoes.
I looked at them and imagined peeling and cooking all those potatoes - enough for a company of Marines is what it looked like to me at that moment.
The potatoes were as big as footballs.... a hundred pounds of them (reality-probably fifteen pounds.)

I tried not to think about them, but after I got home with a few more items (green beans that were each three feet long,) I melted.
My sweet TAPS friend called me (yes, I think of her as my friend even though we have never met. She is a gem and a godsend.) I told her I couldn't do it.
Thanksgiving was overwhelming.
The thought of all those potatoes and green beans and stuffing and bread and cranberries and pies was just too much for me to think of preparing....besides everything else.

"It's a huge mountain," I told her. "I can't climb it right now. It was those potatoes that did it...and the bags and bags of green beans."

We talked, cried and laughed (I cried, I don't think she did.)
By the time we hung up I felt better.
Still overwhelmed, but better.
I could see about getting some help...or a caterer.

This morning I woke up and thought I cannot do this.

"God, you have to be my strength. I don't have any. I am totally broken right now."

I visited with one of my sons. He may not know how much he blessed me.
We talked about Caleb, and heaven.
He talked about Jesus and all He went through for us.
It was good.

I took one step.
I made the stuffing.
Then I tackled those huge green beans.
I went to the grocery store.
Sometimes that is a major deal.
I really didn't want to go in.
I had no strength.

"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."

I got the items I needed, visited with a few people.
Difficult days, and the tears just come.
Unannounced.
The sweet lady who told me she was praying for me may not know how much those words meant to me today.

I went back home.
Before I knew it, I had the sweet potatoes done, and had baked a cake.

God intervened when I accidentally hit the pan of boiling cranberries - boiling water flew toward me,
spilling on my hand.
But, you know what?
It didn't burn.
THAT was God taking care of me.

This afternoon I had a call from a Recon mom.
I also had a call from one of Caleb's Recon brothers.
Wonderful blessings.

Yes, it's been tough.
Very, very tough.
My heart feels like it is in shreds.
But, even so -
God is faithful.

He gets me through somehow.
He sends blessings like the phone calls, the visit with my son, and saving my hand from burns.

There are blessings in the valley.
When I look at the huge mountain before me
and it looks too high ....
I know now -
I shouldn't look at the potatoes.


PS. I have to share - added blessing - my bathroom that has been in the process since April was finished today! The plumber and the tile guys may not know how they blessed me when they said, "Finished!"

Tonight I say, Good night.
Indeed, my Lord is my strength, my light and my salvation.
Even in these difficult times it is well with my soul.
Selah.

Leaning On The Everlasting Ever Ready Arms

I am always His little girl, his daughter.
I'm never too old to let Him comfort me.
I am glad for that.
Tonight I need to lean on my Lord.

Father, I'm tired. I thank you for your strength that gets me through everyday. I praise you for your constant love, and care.
I thank you that you know how I feel, and it's ok.

This road is rough. I know I couldn't make it without you.
Some days there are tons of tears.
Some days I'm numb.
Today I am spent.
There is no energy left.
I am bewildered.
It is still so beyond my comprehension that I won't see my son again in this life.
If I think too hard, I start to panic.
So, I stop, and put it all in your hands.
You don't want me to look past today.
At this point I can't. It is too much to take in.
You know that.
One minute at a time I can make it through.
One step at a time, with you holding my hand.

Tonight I curl up on your lap, and rest my head against your shoulder.
I can cry here, and I know you will hold me.
I am tired.
I know things can't ever be the way they were, and it hurts.

It's hard because I know outwardly it looks like everything is ok, but everyday it's because of you that I move and have my being.
Everyday my heart breaks all over again.
I miss my son.
And yet, I know he lives in heaven with you.
I have that hope that I will see him again.
But, for now, it is a rugged road.

Thank you for being faithful.
For assuring me that you are there for me - always.

Ok. I will rest.
I will be still and know that you are God.
I will be still and put my hope in you, my Father.
I will rest and take no thought for tomorrow for you are already there.

Re: I Drive Your Truck, And Other SUVs and Cars Left Behind

                                 Eighty nine cents in the ashtray....
                          Dog Tags hanging from the rearview mirror....

                                 People's got their ways of coping.
                                         I've got mine....

                                I burn up every back road in this town.
                I find a field and tear it up, till all the pain's a cloud of dust.
                 Yes, sometimes I drive your truck.  ~ I Drive Your Truck

Wow.
Song of the year 2013, CMA Awards.
Taken from a true story - a son KIA in Afghanistan.
The truck he left behind.
The family who drives it.

Lyrics hit home to heartbroken families who have had to say good bye too soon-

My many friends who have their children's vehicles - I know.
We understand.

Remembering the day Caleb's belongings were delivered....
The back doors of the Mayflower swung open.
The first thing I saw was Caleb's vehicle.
The driver backed it down the ramp slowly, onto our driveway.
My son's Trail Blazer....
His name was written on a sheet of white paper, left on the dashboard.
The driver handed me the keys.
Caleb's name was written on a tag attached to the key ring.

This was it.
Reality.
My son wasn't driving it - ever again.

That morning I stood in the driveway and sobbed.

He found this SUV online in a dealership in Parker.
I was going to meet with my writer friends in Parker the next day, so we went together.
I dropped him off at the dealership, and he bought it.

It took him to California.
It was his other car...he really loved driving his Harley.


It's hard to put into words all I was feeling that day.
Flashbacks to when he first started driving.
How he teased me about putting a hole in the floor where I was stepping on invisible brakes.
Memories of when he left for Iraq and how I didn't want anyone to move his vehicle - a blue Dodge Dakota.
It needed to stay where he parked it.
I cried when my husband drove it.
It needed to stay where it was.
It didn't have to make sense.
It was how I felt.

Back to the Trail Blazer, and its' last journey home in a moving van.
It had been parked in a compound on base as I understand, for months -
waiting to make its' journey home.
It was the last thing to go into the Mayflower.



I ran my hand over the black exterior.
My son's ride.
Miles and adventures.
Now,
Caleb's vehicle wasn't going anywhere with him behind the wheel.
Hard to swallow.

His vehicle sat in the driveway for a while.
I didn't want it moved.
I couldn't stand the thought of it going anywhere.

Till one day... it needed to be started since the weather had been so cold.
It started right up.
I turned the radio on.
Of course, it was set for California stations, not Colorado.
But, it was on my favorite station.
I thought - that was so Caleb.
I whispered, 'Thank you,' as tears streamed down my face.
It was a small thing, but it touched my heart.

There are times when I drive his vehicle, and I feel so close to Caleb.
Other times it is too hard to think about driving it.

It is parked in the driveway.
Receipts remain where they were.
Keys stay in the console. I don't know what they're for, but it's ok.
The workout bar is in the back.
The horseshoe stays where it was.

It's just a vehicle.
I realize that.
But, it's a part of Caleb's life.
It helps me to see it, to clean it, to drive it.
It has a distinct smell that has not left.
A clean, fresh scent.
Like a new car.

Sometimes I sit in the driver's seat.
I just sit.
I soak up the thought of Caleb sitting there, his hands on the steering wheel,
jamming to the music, windows down, trucking down the freeway - free as the breeze.

Living his life.
It's how it should be.

Only it's not how it is.

Having his vehicle helps....
There are some things that just do.
It may or may not make sense.
It's just how it is.
I'm ok with that.


In case you didn't hear the song, I Drive Your Truck, here it is.

Some of you know exactly how it feels.
Some of you don't, and that's ok.

Through The Darkness

It's dark.
The stillness of early morning reaches in and quiets my thoughts.

Your peace fills my heart.

I'm taken back a few months ago to March in California
That early morning darkness on base, Camp Pendleton,
when I walked to the main building, listening to the silence of a world still asleep
Then, in the distance, I heard it -
the faint call of Marine cadence.
Though the world slept, there they were,
the disciplined, the few, the proud,
running to the time of duty requiring total sacrifice.

I'll never forget the peace that washed over me.
It was a familiar sound to my son who wasn't there.
It was sad but,
I felt at home.
I felt safe.
The cadence brought back Caleb's years of serving.
The love, the loyalty, the integrity.
The commitment, dedication, perseverance.
All the obstacles he had overcome.

Quiet confidence.
Caleb had that.
In all humility, he gave his all in everything he did.

Yes, that's it.
In this darkness,
there is quiet confidence.

Even though tears fall.
Even though the days are hard.
Even though in the morning when I wake the harsh reality hits again.
Even though.....

Yes, there, deep inside is unwavering confidence - in
 knowing that my God has been faithful in
getting me through each and every moment.

This morning it's there - that feeling.
the punch-in-the-stomach, I-miss-Caleb.

I know without a doubt where my son is.
He's having the everlasting time of his life.

But, I miss him.
I miss that his time here, is over.

In the silence sadness surrounds me, but so does peace.
I'm heartbroken without him.
I know where he is, and that we will be together again - .
I know I've said it before....
it's being here without him that's hard.

And yet, every time I think of Caleb
I have to smile.
I may be crying,
but I have to smile.
He always has that effect on me.
I don't ever want to lose that.
I don't ever want his smile and humor to grow dim.
Ever.

You know, I think God knows that.
I may not be able to see Caleb, but his life is so a part of mine
he will always be here
making me smile, making me laugh.

I really think so.
I have confidence in that.

Thank you Father for your word.
In quietness and confidence shall be my strength.
I believe.
Through tears and heartache,
I believe.

Making The Drive/ For Caleb

Friday, September 27.
I had to do it.
For Caleb.

I don't like driving in the mountains and refuse to drive over mountain passes.
The tiny railings that exist on the edge of steep drop offs on the side of mountains have never given me any sense of security.
Really? Like  those little things are going to stop a car from going over the edge.

Some mountain roads are narrow, two lane.
Think about that - especially if you're not the one driving against the mountain wall.

With those thoughts not in my mind, I told my husband I'd drive.
Nothing unusual about that.
I do that sometimes when we leave home on the plains - I have no problem driving on a four lane interstate with plenty of room - no steep descents in sight.
My husband usually gets to work on some paperwork for at least an hour....or he dozes.
At the end of an hour or two, he usually drives.

Not on Friday.
I drove.
One hour, two hours, and I kept on driving.
We got up into the high country, and it was beautiful.
I thought about Caleb.
I prayed.
I can do this.
I need to insert here, there are some four lanes in the mountains, too.
That helps a little - not much, but a little.
There are still those tiny little railings on the edge.

I drove through the mountains.
I drove over two passes (most of the second one.)
I drove through fog.
I drove through rain.
I drove through snow.
I kept saying, "This is so beautiful!"
"This is so fun!"

Laugh.
It's ok.
But, I meant it.
There was no fear.
There was no reason.
My son was courageous in the face of great dangers in his life.
His example has burned in my life like never before.
He trusted God with his every breath.

We got to Rabbit Ears Pass, and the weather was worse.
It was horrible.
Snow was falling like crazy.
Ice formed on the wipers making visibility difficult.
Trying to maintain control on the icy roads was like trying to walk in stocking feet across an ice arena.

Slow....
very slowly,
I drove.

At one point,
I found a place to pull over,
and my husband drove the twenty or so remaining miles.
I closed my eyes as we swerved on the icy roads.
I was thankful.
Not afraid (well, except for my husband's driving, maybe.)

There was peace.
I did it.
Thank you Caleb, for being such a brave son.
Your life impacts mine every single day.
I don't know if you knew this, but your life has been impacting our family for years.
Since you've been gone, the impact is even greater.
We are all reaching the mountain tops through this valley we are in.
We are all experiencing the challenges of life in a more positive way.

I know you are cheering us on.
We're getting it.
We really are.

Even though it's tough, we're risking life.

Thank you.
We love you.

Gold Stars and Fallen Heroes

I stepped into the hallway.
I wasn't expecting this....
I wanted to turn and walk away -
Maybe nobody'd notice.

It was overwhelming.

"Let's leave," I wanted to say to my husband.
I don't belong here.
We don't belong here.
No.

Rows and rows of pictures lined the tables....hundreds of pictures with small votive candles in front of each one.
Hundreds of beautiful faces, personalities beaming from each one - so many smiles - faces that said, "I love life. I love this adventure."
Faces that lived for today, and the tomorrow that never came.
Loving faces with moms, dads, brothers, sisters, husbands, wives and little children they held and kissed.

There would have been so much laughter if they would have all been standing there with us.
But, these were reminders of our fallen heroes...

Scanning the many rows of photos,
I found him.
There he was...
My son's picture.
My hero.
My fallen warrior.
It didn't seem right that his picture would be there.
It didn't seem right that any of them should...
They were all so young and full of life.

We walked into the banquet hall where many were already seated.
I really didn't want to be there either.
I felt removed from everything and everybody.
Knowing all these people were there because they had lost a son or daughter was overwhelming.
How is it that we are here?
It was a strange almost surreal feeling.
We sat down. The people were cordial and welcoming.
Yet, I couldn't engage in any kind of conversation, which is weird for me.
I listened for a little while, still surveying the huge room of parents,
got up and left.

I found a place in the hall, a tucked away place, and the tears came.
I bent over with the heartache - yes, I did belong there.
All these people hurt and were heartbroken, too.
Parents from all over Colorado - some from New Mexico and Utah.
Wow.

There was time for roll call for each hero represented.
We had a time to remember those who have been MIA/POW since the early nineteen hundreds to now...those did not/have not returned home. It all took on a different meaning.
We were blessed. We had closure.

As it turned out, I'm glad we came.
I met a facebook friend - we only knew each other through facebook, and knew we were Gold Star moms.
My husband and I met other parents with stories of their own. We shook hands, and hugged - we understood.

When I returned to the banquet hall, the speaker announced that we were ok, and were in good company. If we needed to leave the room, or cry, it was ok. If we felt overwhelmed, it was understandable.
Whew.

This journey is difficult.
No doubt about it.
All these families at this retreat are on the same journey.

This morning we ride the gondola to the top of the mountain for a prayer service.
I'm looking forward to it.
I look forward to spending time with the families we've met.
Now,
I'm not ready to leave.

My son was the most recent fallen hero represented here.
We are so new to this journey, but somehow I get the impression that this journey is always new.
Like the wonderful speaker we had last night said, "You don't get over it, but you get through it."



PS - Today is Gold Star Mother's Day - to all the moms I share this day with - you are brave and amazing. God bless you all. 

A Mom's Heart

I heard recently that I needed to get over it.
I heard I only needed to think of what I have instead of what I'm missing.
I heard I just need to thank God for the things he is doing.

I heard.

I also heard some words of encouragement.
Things that made sense and were helpful.

Sue, a new friend, a military mom who lost her son,
recently told me -
We with children are all in the same boat.
When one of us loses a child, we are out of the boat.
That's it.
We can never get back in the boat of  "everybody's-here."
Because we're not in the boat anymore, we will spend the rest of our lives swimming.
Some days we will barely be keeping our heads above water.
Some days we will feel like we are drowning.
Other days we will swim along and do well.
At times we will float on our backs.

My children are a huge part of my life.
I would gladly give my life for any of them.
It just so happened God had other plans.

I've been told the devil did it. God's plans for my child were not accomplished.
I've been told our children make choices and they live or die by those choices.

I believe there is a much bigger picture than our puny minds can even begin to comprehend, but we so want to explain and have the answer, that we can put ourselves in the position of wisdom that we do not have.

I  am not in that position.
I do know that God promises to hold us in the palm of his hand and that satan cannot pluck us out.
I know that he hears our prayers...he heard my prayers for my son that very day. He hears my prayers now.

His plans are not our plans.
His thoughts are not our thoughts.
His ways are higher than ours.
That is what the Bible says.

He is God.
I am not.

All I know right now is that this journey has changed my life forever.
In brokenness I will live.
Through Christ alone am I whole in any way.

He knows my heart.
Grief, peace and  joy all fill the same heart.
On the outside it may look like I'm just fine.
Or it may seem like I'm a crying mess.

I will not 'get over it.'
There is nothing to get over.
The absence of my child will be with me all my life.
Will I go on?
Of course I will.
I'm still here in the land of the living.
But, don't think that if I just think happy thoughts it will all go away.

I look at the sunrise every morning as it peeks through clouds or through the trees, and I am in awe of my mighty Maker.
I watch as birds balance on telephone wires and marvel.
I smile as I watch little children in their innocence, run through the splash park.
I breathe in the fresh, early morning air, and thank my God for his goodness.
I praise my Lord through the tears.
I know the beauty I see here is nothing compared to the beauty my son is a part of now.

I am glad for each day, for each blessing.
There are many blessings...God sends beautiful people who bring sweet comfort and friendship.
I am mindful of all the great and wonderful things I have to be so thankful for.
The greatest of all is that I know where my son is,
and that one day the space that separates us will be no more.

Selah.

Caleb's Hiking Boots

Today I opened one of your boxes.
There they were.
Your
hiking boots, headgear.
Signs of your life,
things you enjoyed doing.
Those hiking boots had seen lots of wear.

I remember you talking to me about some of your adventures.
Rappelling,
Climbing in the desert.
I saw videos of some of your journeys.
Steep, narrow crevices.
High, vertical rocks and cliffs.
And there you were...
Big smile on your face.
You loved your life.

Seeing your boots
broke my heart.
All those miles of living...
Now
empty, silent soles
in a box.

Yet, as I looked at them
I could hear your voice as you trekked up mountains with your buddies, laughing, joking, giving each other a hard time.
I could feel your hands, rough and torn from grabbing hold of branches or jagged edges.
I could see your strength as you pulled yourself up, muscles strained and strong.
So many scenarios of your active life crossed my mind.

Sigh....
Those boots
told your stories.
Now they rest.
I'm sad.

I shut the box, and ran upstairs.
Sobs escaped
again.

It doesn't seem right.
Nothing makes sense right now.
Although I know that I know God's Word is true,
everything has changed in this life.
Nothing is certain.
I have no control over much, really....probably the way it should be.
I don't feel lost - I know where I'm bound in the end.
But right now, everything seems amiss.

Life goes on and I am a spectator....going and doing, yet feeling disconnected.

I thought I had direction, but right now I see flashing red lights, hear sirens
and I stand still, wanting to run, but knowing this is where I am.
There is a detour, a huge roadblock.
Where to go from here?

Life does go on.
There has to be purpose through all this.
God holds my life in his hands.
The little time allotted is hazy right now.

Maybe one day I'll look at Caleb's hiking boots, think of the miles he covered, and I'll be able to smile.
Right now it breaks my heart that those boots won't climb with his feet marking their steps.

Like the psalmist, I cry out in the depths, and I know my God is there.
Oh how Caleb's miles of living has testified of a life well lived.

I look at my Father and say, my life is in your hands.
I don't understand too much....except that you are God and I am not.
I know that your Word is true and you have to be carrying me.

I cry out, Abba.
Carry on Father.
You say this present suffering is nothing compared to the riches of the glory to come.
I believe.
Even now -
Yes, Father.
I believe.

Christmas in July/Christmases When You Were Mine

I can hear it now,
What? Christmas in July?
It's not even close to December.
This commercialism has gone too far!

I have a confession to make.
My children will testify.

When they were growing up, I thought it would be fun to play Christmas carols in July.
That was long ago, before it was the cool thing to do in the middle of summer - get it? Cool?
Ok.
There were no advertisements for Christmas in July back then.
Imagine my surprise when it became a media frenzy years later.
Pshaw.
I'd been celebrating Christmas in July for years....without the
decorations and gifts.
Just the music,
and thoughts of the meaning.

I always thought Christmas should be celebrated all year long.
Why try to cram everything nice in one month or one day?
I thought we should bake for our neighbors one month.
Send cards another month.
Visit and spread cheer everyday.
You know, spread the love of Christmas all year.
I don't know how well that would catch on, but I think it would be great to get Christmas cards in August.
Then, December wouldn't be such a stressful month of goodness.
Don't try to give me the 'I don't get caught up in all that stuff,' or 'I don't get stressed.'
Bah humbug if you don't.

I love Christmas - that was why I played carols in July.
I remember one day when the children were fairly small,
I loaded up a picnic basket, and we piled in the car to go to Bonnie Dam (rest her dry soul).
On the way, I put in a Christmas cassette (long ago, yes).
Windows were down, and "Joy To The World" and "Rocking Around The Christmas Tree"
filled the summer air.

Those were the days.
We were all together, laughing, and having a good time.
I'm thinking we (at least some of us) were singing along.
It was great.

Caleb loved Christmas.
July twenty-fifth I came across a radio station playing Christmas carols all day.
I listened, sang, thought of Caleb and yes, a tear or more (ok, more) fell down my cheeks.

I could see his smile and hear him singing.
I'm not sure where I'll be in December...whether I'll be able to write about Christmas or not,
but yesterday it warmed my heart because I knew Caleb so enjoyed Christmas - and if you knew him you know he also liked
Taylor Swift.

So, Merry Christmas in July.
This song is for you my son -

Christmases When You Were Mine - Taylor Swift.

A Look At Death/That 'D' Word

It's unknown territory for me....
Trying to deal with this broken down life in a broken down world.
I heard from a friend of mine.
Some friends of his lost their six year old son yesterday in a swimming accident.
The intense heartbreak of that couple has to be horrific.

I've been trying to come to terms with the enormity of....what else can you call it -
loss, myself.

Their son, my son, your daughter, his wife, her sister....it goes on.
The 'd' word runs rampant in the world.
It doesn't matter what your status is, or how closely you walk with God and do the right things.
The 'd' word is in this world and can come to your house, too.

I've been thinking and praying about it for a while.
It doesn't make sense how young lives have been snatched away...just like that.
God is big.
Why doesn't he just stop this nonsense from happening and breaking our hearts?
He can do anything, can't he?
Or can he?

This is what I think.
I'm not telling anyone else what to think.
I'm not saying I know anything or that anybody should agree with me.
It's just a thought.
Got it?
I'm not an expert by any means.
Just thinking, maybe....
Here's my take on the whole 'd' word....

The 'd' word came into the world with Lucifer the beautiful, narcissistic angel of music who was jealous of God and wanted the glory for himself.
When he got kicked out of heaven, he took some stupid angels with him and they started their campaign of death and destruction because there was nothing good in them, only evil.

God created Adam and Eve - beautiful, happy, alive forevermore in the Garden of Eden.
It was the way it was supposed to be.
But, because evil himself was around, he decided to try to destroy what God created in his image.
So, he tempted them.
I'm thinking he may have been tempting them, breaking them down before the day of the forbidden fruit.
So that day when he showed up, Eve was already entertaining negative, doubt-filled 'what ifs'.
When evil mentioned eating the fruit, she thought, why not.

Evil knew he was bound for hell - a horrible place just for him and his angels, but he didn't want to go there alone. Who better to take with him than God's prized creation, man created in God's image.

It worked.
Sin entered with disobedience and with it, the 'd' word.
Thanks for eating the forbidden fruit, Adam and Eve - it takes two, you know.
So, they were banished from the Garden of Eden where we'd all be living if it hadn't been for evil, temptation and disobedience.

That is when the 'd' word began to be a household name.
Cain killed Abel.
Death had begun.
Adam died.
Eve died.
I believe every time someone died, God was sad.
He hated death, but because man had listened to evil, there it was.
I'm not saying those people went to hell, that's a topic for another day. I'm just saying they died...the 'd' word is what this is about.
The thing about God, is he gives his creation freedom. He is not a dictator or manipulator. He shows us the right way, so we can avoid heartache and pain, but he gives us the freedom to choose.
Adam and Eve chose death, and so it was.

What could God do? There was only one way to overcome eternal death and damnation, and that was to end it himself, and he could only do that by allowing death and sin to enter his body so he could destroy it.
That's when he sent Jesus, the living Word made flesh.
Jesus accounted for our sins and died, taking all the ugliness of evil on himself.
He overcame death so it had no sting.
Sure, people would still die on this earth because of sin, and our mortality, but the sting was gone because Jesus took the keys to hell, and had the keys to heaven. Heaven's gates were open for his creation again. He died, went to hell, overcame all its grotesque ugliness and rose to life everlasting giving all of us the right to go there.

I believe death is the worst sin has to offer, that's why it's so horrible, why it hurts so, so bad.
It's irregular, unnatural.
We were never supposed to experience it.
Because we experience it, God has, too.
He understands everything we go through.
I believe he hurts, too, being separated from us. He loves us.
When we accept the gift of Jesus' life for our death, he knows he will be with us again.
Until then, he misses us and hurts, too - death separates people who love.

The Bible says, "Death where is your sting?"  Death does not have preeminence over our lives because Christ gave death a lethal blow by his life.
So! The terrible hurt is because death is not the norm for God's creation...it is a result of the evil one and the weakness of mankind. The victory in it is that Jesus overcame death and the grave once and for all when he went there and took the keys of sin and death.

When a believer passes from here, he goes from life to life.
Caleb went from this life to heaven's life.
My friend's friends' son walked into the arms of Jesus.
That lessens the blow.
We have hope.

However hurtful death is in this life, there is an eternal life waiting for us and no weapon can stand against that.
As difficult as it is for me to come to terms with the 'd' word, it helps to know heaven is real. I know Jesus is real and eternal life is ours.

 I like what one evangelist said. He said Christians should change how they talk about the 'd' word. Your loved ones aren't dead. He was saying one day that death is not death to the believer-- it is changing location.  John 11 says that whoever believes in Him shall never die!

When we leave this world, we pass from life to eternal life.  I love knowing that.

My thoughts have also been on heaven and earth and reality.  I'll save that for another time.
In the meantime, thanks for taking time to share in my thoughts.

Be at peace.
Selah.

Just Another Day in Paradise

The sun is bound to shine today.
It peers in through the morning shadows.
Ah.....
It's another day in paradise.

Lord, this morning, like every morning, I wake knowing you are there.
It  doesn't take long before the reality is there as well.

"This is the day the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it."
It is how I have started my days for many years.
I remember when I first started saying that verse.
It was a long, long time ago.
It was a difficult  time, filled with uncertainty.

I didn't know what the future held.
But, I knew Who held my future.
I threw my broken life on the altar, and cried out to my Father.
I'd lie in bed, and say the verse
over and over.

Did my troubles go away?
No.
But, saying the words reassured me of the truth of the Word I believed in.
Peace came in the midst of uncertainty.
That was so long ago...Sigh.
Yes.
God got me through.
His victory lived in my life and He healed every broken place.


Today is a new day.
The wound of my broken heart is still open and raw.
Everyday it's like it's new all over again - the deep laceration of hurt and separation breaks in all over again.

I hear people say it will get better -
People who have years of experience behind them.
I don't dispute what they say.
They are where they are.
They know.
From where I am....
Well,
I can't imagine that right now.

Yet, somehow I make it through each day.
Each new day.

Yes, I do rejoice.
I know that I know where Caleb is.
He's just moved beyond my life.
That's the great and hard part.
Where he's moved I can't be right now.

I do rejoice.
I know who my Father is.
I know who my Savior is.
I know He is faithful.
I know in Whom I hope.

This is the day the Lord has made.
There is a reason I'm still here.
It is for his purpose.

One of my favorite sayings is,
 "There is no pit so deep that God's love is not deeper still." ~ Corrie ten Boom
It's true.
God reaches into my brokenness and picks me up everyday.
In this broken state, he is there.
He carries me.
It is through Christ that I move, and breath and have my being.
In this I do rejoice.
It is how I make it through the day.

That's how it is here in paradise.

Carry me, Lord. On my knees I stand. You are my strength and my salvation. You are the Lord of my life. It is in You that I have hope. I rejoice in you. You give me the manna of your Word everyday. You are my light and my covering for each day. I am so thankful that you are strong. You are filled with compassion. You love me, and know my very heart. There is  nothing hidden from You. I am here, your child, open arms, and broken. Your grace is sufficient. You are more than enough.
Abba Father, I love you, and because of your son I come.
In Jesus I hide.
Amen.

Steve Camp sings, "Carry Me."

Happy Birthday America /Because of The Brave

Happy Birthday America.
For two hundred thirty-seven years you have survived.
There has been bloodshed.
There has been heartache.
There has been victory, prosperity.
There have been times of hardship, and times of harvests of plenty.


In 1776,  the Declaration of Independence was introduced, and with it, the knowledge and foresight of the high cost of freedom.

Happy Birthday America.
So many didn't think you'd make it.
Some still think you won't.
There are those who love you and will stand for you, and die for you.
There are those who hate what you stand for and try to tear you apart from the inside out.

Happy Birthday America.
Yes.
You are the land I love.
You are the land that so many have sacrificed for,
willing to come from foreign lands to grace your soil,
-willing to fight for it.
-willing to die for freedom.

Happy Birthday America.
I believe in you.
Many have given their lives through history, believing in the Declaration of Independence, "..that we hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness."

Happy Birthday America.
Today I celebrate with pride.
My son is part of the celebration.
Because of him, and men like him,
we can freely raise our US flags, and understand what it means to be free.

It is not without sacrifice.
It is with determination and a belief in the foundation of this country.
It is with perseverance and the integrity of honest men and women that we remain who we are today.

When I see the American flag, it brings hope, and gratitude to my heart.
My son died for the red, white and blue.
His life, his death - and of those before and after him will always
be engrafted in the colors of freedom.
That, is what I see when I see American flags in our neighborhoods.
That is what I see when I see flags in our business districts and windows.
That is what this mother holds dear as she joins with others in our fine country today
to celebrate another birthday.

Happy Birthday and God Bless America.

Memorial Day and Columbines

God knows what I need.

I was surprised when I saw Columbines growing in my flower garden.
I'm usually not very successful with flower or vegetable gardens, or plants in general.
The Columbines made me smile.
I have plants that are still alive, and now I have living flowers in my garden!
It's like a little bit of heaven peeking in on me.


 Memorial Day was a difficult day.
After writing about the dread I had of the day, I thought I should follow-up.


I got up early and went to the cemetery to put flags around the perimeter of Caleb's plot.

Yes, I'm one of those moms.
I always put flags out when Caleb was coming home.
In fact, during bootcamp I put a flag out for every week he was gone. He was gone sixteen long weeks.
I'd line the driveway with flags when he came home on leave.
I put flags out for every month he was deployed to Iraq, and Afghanistan.

I lined our driveway with flags when the Mayflower moving van made its last delivery of his belongings a few months ago.
It's what I did.
So, it seemed the normal thing for me to do.

I'd made an arrangement with flowers and big leaves (they reminded me of California, where he enjoyed living) and placed it over the dirt, that will hopefully be filled in with grass one day.

I'm glad I went to the service at the cemetery.
I actually did all right through most of it - sort of - until Taps was played.
Listening to Taps has  always made me want to cry.
But now, like Memorial Day, it is personal.
Taps is for my son.
Needless to say, tears trickled down my cheeks as I listened to the hushed melody.

I made it through the day,
 - with a little help from my friends.
My help comes from the Lord, and He sends friends to help lift my arms.
I am humbled and grateful for His constant care.

I must confess, I made more than one trip to the cemetery on Memorial Day.
I just had to be there.
I'd stand by Caleb's plot, and just look....
I played Carole King's "Child of Mine," the song
I'd sing when I'd think of Caleb in the Marines -
overseas, in tough training...just being away from home.

Tears flowed.
I sang along.
The lyrics were so true.

 I looked at the name plate.
"SSGT. Caleb Medley."
Unreal.
Yet, his life had gone full circle.
He did what he was called to do.
He finished his race.
He was home free.
No regrets.

In the sadness, there is peace,
even if I feel like my heart is being pulled through a razor fence every moment I'm awake.

Like I mentioned before, my memorial day is everyday.
But, there is hope-even through the sorrow.

It's noticing the little things - like the  Columbines in my garden.
It's seeing that my house plants are still alive.
It's hearing from my recon family.
It's meeting with my sweet, supportive friends.
It's walking my dog through the rain and feeling the refreshing sprinkles.

I am grateful.

In my lowliness, He lifts me up.

3 AM There Is Light

Awake at 3am.
In a few hours I shall attend the Memorial Day service.
I battled with the thought of going, but I know I will

Difficult?
Very.

Anguish of heart, and yet,
I must go on.
I must.

When I woke up the words to an old song rang through my mind.
The cross before me,
the world behind me.
No turning back.
No turning back.

I have no choice in my life.
With the last ounce of piercing pain at being separated from my son,
I cry out.
Nail pierced hands hold me.
It is how it is for me.
With each gut-wrencing cry,
hope sustains me even though there is no adequate description of how it hurts.

The cross before me.
It is how it is in my life.

Gethsemane.
I see Him, crying out, but there was no turning back.
No.
There is no turning back.

As difficult as it is,
this is my call in life now.
The road is narrow but...
there is light ahead.
So it is.

He carries me...through shadows dark.
He sustains me...

Though none go with me, still I will follow.
I know there are others on this rugged road.
Hearts broken and lives changed forever.

With every ounce of my being.
He takes my broken heart and life and
comforts and sooths my soul.

There is no pretense here...what good would that do?
Though it is hard, where else could I go, but to You.

In the morning, when the sun shines through,
I will arise and praise you.
You are  my strength, my shield.
My strong tower on this battlefield.
I have no place,
But to your arms I run.
You are my God, the faithful One.

Memorial Day ~ They Gave All/ A Moment At Three

I've always observed Memorial Day, remembering the brave men and women who gave all so I could be free - going to the memorial service at the cemetery, putting out my flag, visiting graves of those who served and gave.
When I thought about it this morning,
I felt sick....

I don't think I want to observe it this year.
No, I think I'd like to hide in the mountains somewhere...
in a cabin, secluded from the world.

Only, I know the mountains won't take the fact away that Memorial Day is now personal.
I can't get away from that no matter where I go.
Memorial Day includes my son.
Not just Civil War, World War I and II...not just the Vietnam War or Korean War men and women...not just people I admired for sacrificing their lives...

My son.

I thought about that...
My son gave his life because he believed in our constitution, in our country- one nation under God.

So I bucked up, pulled myself up by my Asics, and talked to myself...

Well then, by golly, there better be some memorializing going on.
My son did not give his life in vain.
I honor his life and his sacrifice.
Yes, it's tough, very tough.
But, I stand with so many mothers who had to say good-bye too soon.
I stand with wives who didn't know that 'I love you' kiss was the last they'd share.
I do not stand alone.
I believe we share,
along with the heartbreak, and the tears, an unshakeable confidence and peace. Pride in
the integrity and selflessness our children/spouses exuded
by serving their country.



To help re-educate and remind Americans of the true meaning of Memorial Day, the "National Moment of Remembrance" resolution was passed on Dec 2000 which asks that at 3 p.m. local time, for all Americans "To voluntarily and informally observe in their own way a Moment of remembrance and respect, pausing from whatever they are doing for a moment of silence or listening to 'Taps."

This Memorial Day, join in at three o'clock to remember those who gave their lives in the name of freedom.

I know I will.
I remember everyday.

On Missing Caleb

Today I was talking to one of my children.
"This sucks."
"Yes, it does," I sighed.
Waking up everyday, realizing Caleb isn't here is just hard.

There are days I think I'll wake up and this will all be a dream.
The doorbell will ring, and Caleb will be at the door - Surprise!
We'll hug his neck.
Caleb will laugh and say, "Ah!"
It will be the greatest reunion ever.

But,
I know that isn't going to happen.
This present reality is still too hard for me to grasp.
It just is.

There is no easy way to explain, but I'll try.

I wake up and the feeling is there.
The empty, gut-punching feeling of missing Caleb.
Knowing he isn't here.

Separation from my child is too much to take in.
Numbness still hurts, but when it wears off, as it
does, the raw pain in my heart is like none I've ever known.
Like an open, raw-to-the-bone gash, as wide as the Grand Canyon.
I believe the pain is released in small increments because otherwise we wouldn't be able to take it.

I've heard it said, if we felt the full impact of this separation, we would literally die of heartbreak.
Sometimes it feels that way....
Heartbreak hurts like crazy.

Yet,
I have hope.
I have assurance.
There is absolutely no doubt about it.
I know that I know that I know I will see my son again someday.

It's the now that is hard.
It's the time here binding us to this earth that is hard.
He is living in a place where time does not bind, because time is eternal.

We are held here by life ties, responsibilities, and a path we still need to travel.
He is beyond this sphere. His earth journey is over.
Ours continues.
No, I don't have a death wish.
I'm not depressed nor do I feel despair.
Yet, in my little life here on this earth -
It's the now that I miss with him.
The now of seeing his face and hearing his voice.
The now of hugging him and listening to him.
The now of his life with us.
That is what is hard.
That is why it hurts.

On the outside it may appear everything is back to normal here on Paradise.
Things are not, and will never be back to normal on Paradise.
It's not a doom and gloom thing.
It's reality.
Our lives are changed forever.
There will be a vacancy at our table  - always.
That seat where Caleb sat.
There will always be a lull in our conversations - time when Caleb
would have said something undoubtedly funny and profound.

Yet, I hold on to hope, knowing that he is not so far away.
No matter how I feel, he is nearer than we think.
His life continues to change our lives.
His presence is always with us - wherever we go, whatever we do.
His influence continues to mold us.

We reach upward -
knowing that this light affliction, this suffering we experience now will one day pass away, and will seem as nothing because of the glory we will share with Caleb (2 Corinthians 4:17.)
Our trail blazer is living on in heaven, and will be there to welcome us home.

Right now my heart breaks because I miss him so much.
In my brokenness I cry, "Abba, Daddy," and He's there.
My God covers me with his comfort and peace -
even in the midst of the pain.

Yes,
It is well with my soul,
even when the tears are falling.

This longing will one day be fulfilled.
I know -
And what a day, glorious day that will be.

A Little Light In The Darkness/Layo Here We Go

I attempt to grasp this new reality, but at times it is too hurtful to hold.
I lean on the cross - He is my strength, my joy, my peace
even in the midst of pain.

A few weeks ago we went to California for Caleb's memorial service.
We stayed on base, which I thought would be a good thing.
Wrong.
We drove through many familiar areas.

This was not a good idea.
Memories confronted me on every side, taking stabs at my shredded emotions.
I remembered Caleb driving here, and there - telling me stories along the way.

This was where we stayed when we visited.
That was the room we stayed in when Caleb had surgery.
I could hardly stand it.

I sat in the room alone for a while.
Cried.
Took a much needed nap.

I walked along familiar paths.
Again tears came.
Cleansing.

That first evening we were invited to a cook-out with our Recon family.
Like warm blankets wrapped around us, the love and closeness we shared
helped all of us.

Staying on base wasn't so hard after that.

I woke up before the sun graced the sky.
Walked over to the main building for breakfast.

Lights from a long line of military trucks shone along the road near where we stayed.

All was silent.
Then, off in the distance I heard it.
The early morning song.
Marines in formation, .
I couldn't make out the words, but
I recognized the sound
of
the
cadence.

What a welcome sound.
I was listening to something my son had taken part in
as a Marine.
An early morning melody that brought peace and assurance to my heart.

These days
I don't choose what triggers tears.
It surprises me what makes me feel better.
It's just how it is.

The early morning cadence reminded me of
the tradition my son shared.

As the rhythm continued I heard it -
Motivation,
Dedication,
Initiative,
Endurance,
Courage,
Structure,
Discipline,
Purpose.
Order,
Teamwork,
Pride.

I felt secure, safe.
Quiet confidence filled the air.
I was proud of my son and who he was.
I was proud of what he did.

I put my hands in my pockets, and walked a little taller.

You did so well, Caleb.

A tear trickled down my face.
But, there was peace.

A glimmer of light lifted my heart as I walked in the darkness.

Layo.
Here we go.



There are many cadences.
The link I share is
to share a glimpse similar to what I heard that morning.

Waiting for Caleb's Belongings

The Lord is my shepherd I shall not want.
I walk through the valley of the shadow of death and I will fear no evil.
Your rod and your staff they comfort me.

Words cannot describe my feelings right now, as I await the arrival of the moving van with my son's belongings, his car and his motorcycle.

How can I do this?
How can I watch as this truck makes its way to my home with everything from my son's world?
The world he left a little over three weeks ago - anyway that's what the calendar says.
For me - time only tells me that he is not here.

I awaited the moving van's arrival a few years ago when he came home.
It was exciting and I anticipated the moment that truck would come rolling down my street.


It came again when he re-enlisted.
Not much to load.
"Travel light" was his motto.
I stood in the yard, and watched as the truck left...
he was off on a new adventure, this pathfinder son. He was following his dream, his destiny.
He was ready.

I was at peace. I knew it was what he was meant to do.
I prayed -
Godspeed my warrior son.

I don't know what to expect today.
Right now, I feel sick at my stomach.
Tears sting my eyes.
I'd like it all to be a dream.
But, I know it's not.

I know my son will not be coming home with his stuff this time, and that is
almost more than I can take in.
There must be some mistake.
Only I know there isn't.

I've never been down this road, and right now it seems like a movie being played out in the reality of my life.
I'm living a part I can't get away from.

The Lord is my shepherd.
It's not just a saying - he really is.
He has to be.
His rod and his staff they comfort me.

I know the meaning of walking through the valley of the shadow of death.
It is a valley right now.
It hurts.
But, I can't back out.
I can't walk away.
I have to walk through it.
There is a shadow...I don't like it.
I'd rather the sun being shining bright, and the world be like it was...
However, nothing is the same.

Death, where is your sting?
Love conquered all.
Hope lives in my heart despite the shadow.

My heavenly  Father has not failed me - ever.
He will be with me.
He will uphold me with the right hand of his righteousness.
His peace and his love envelop me.

It is where I am.
It is where I am called right now.
I can do all things through Christ who is my strength.
His words are life to my bones, and health to my being.
The healing balm of Gilead is mine.

Selah.

Thank You For Honoring Caleb's Life

Dear Friends,

Two weeks ago, Wednesday, Februrary 27, at one am in the morning two Marines came to our door. The news they brought changed our lives forever. It doesn’t seem like two weeks ago, because time stood still that morning.

“You have many decisions to make,” the company commander spoke to me on the phone. His soothing and assuring manner helped me gain my composure and know that I could do what I had to do.

The past two weeks have been a whirlwind. Many decisions were made to honor my son, Caleb.

Today I am thankful for his life. I thank Caleb for being the giving person he always was. I honor and thank him for serving his country because he loved it and believed in what it stood for. I know he willingly gave all. I thank him and will always regard him in the highest of honor for being a man of integrity. Most of all I thank him for being Caleb. Our love for him lives on.

Our utmost thanks to so many people who showered us with love. To so many who showed gratitude for Caleb’s life.

My neighbors on Paradise Drive lined our street with flags. I have the best neighbors in the world. Thank you.

When, we arrived in Burlington following the funeral car, people holding flags lined Lincoln Street,  Rose Avenue, all the way to the funeral home.  Your allegiance to my son’s life meant so much.

I understand there were flags everywhere in the community. Flags were flown at halfmast in honor of my son. Thank you everyone.

The ride to the cemetery is something I will never forget. There were flags and people along the whole route. Children, elderly....I even saw a couple of bull dogs – the Marines mascot. Huge flags, small flags, children holding signs, people with their hands on their hearts, people saluting….

There were even flags on the fence around the cemetery.

Thanks to the VFW who welcomed our Marines and us and treated us so kindly, opening their doors to us.

Thank you to Pastor Eric Kilborn, Kirsten and Free Life Church. Thank you to Pastor Ron Lee, Kathy and E-Free Church. To Pastor Joe Berry and Sharlyn for commemorating Caleb on your churchsign. Thank you to Pastor Bill Viergutz and Daphne, Jon Reevers and Jenny, Doctor Jason Barnes and Amy – we are all the body of Christ. We were humbled and blessed by all you have done for us.

Thank you to all who came to our home and helped make things easier just by being here. Thank you for all the food, paper goods, and the many beautiful flowers and plants.

Thank you to all who called and for all the prayers. I know they have helped tremendously.

Thank you to Burlington High School – Superintendent Tom Satterly, thank you for working with us. Thank you to all the teachers who took part in helping make things go smoothly for the service-Eileen Jones, Andy Salvador, Russell Gramm, Steve Poet and his class, Miss Yowell and her class. Thank you Judy Rainbolt for watching out for us. Thank you Mason Witzel, MacKenzie Reeverts and Jon Reeverts for decorating the halls in red, white and blue.

Thank you to the students who lined the halls, and silently and respectfully stood, while the Marine Honor Guard brought our flag draped casket to the gym.

Thank you to Mason Witzel, Hudson Lee, Adily Hendricks, and MacKenzie Reeverts for videoing and taking pictures. Thank you Susan Corliss for taking pictures  as well. These will be priceless treasures for us in years to come. You all are wonderful. We go way back and you all are like family.

Thank you to the Police and Sheriff Departments and the Patriot Guard for having our backs and taking care of business.

Thank you Bryan Russell for working with us. Thank you for standing with us and making decisions on our behalf concerning the media.

 Gratitude fills my heart. Words don’t seem adequate. I am honored to be part of a caring, patriotic community. There is something about grassroots America, farm country - and her heart for our military, and our country.

Our Marine family was overwhelmed by the support our community paid to Caleb. “You don’t see this hardly anywhere, anymore.” Many of the Marines present have been to funerals of other fallen Marines. They had never seen such an outpouring of support and love.

We have been in touch with our Recon Marine family, and they continue to tell us how meaningful being here was. Those who couldn’t come have asked how everything was here. Our Recon Marines tell them about a community who showed their respect for Caleb, and for our country. To these men, it gives hope for our nation

 The memories you lent to these Recon Marines will stay with them a lifetime. You stood for what they fight for, for what they are willing to lay down their lives for.

Thank you to all who came to Caleb’s service to celebrate his life. We wanted to share the Caleb we knew. He loved his God, his family and his country. He filled our lives with laughter and challenged us to be more than we thought we could be– not by what he said, but by how he lived.

We plan on continuing to live that challenge.

I am proud and blessed to stand for that freedom, and am grateful to be part of a community willing to stand and honor a man who knew that freedom wasn’t free.

Caleb gave all.

God bless you all.

 Again, thank you.

Caleb Medley’s family – George and Diane Homm, Nathan, Josiah, Collen Medley, Melanie and Marshall Thomas

The Write Corner/ A Writer's Explanation

I didn't know I was different.


It's ok if you're thinking you've known that for a long time.

"Writers have stories going through their heads all the time. What a strange bunch."
The author was talking to a room of writers.

At every writer's conference I've been to, I've met some very nice people.
Everybody looked pretty normal.
Yet, I heard we were different.
We had stories in our minds.
What seemed odd to me was the thought of people with empty heads -
What, no stories?
How could it be.

I pondered it for quite a while.
But, I had to know
.
One evening after a quiet dinner,
while we were relaxing, watching TV,
I asked my husband, "Do you have stories going on in your head?"

He looked at me, like I'd said, "I've been thinking.
I think I'll grow another head, how about you, don't you want another head?"

He answered, "Ah, no."

I couldn't believe it, so I asked again.
"You don't think of stories as you're driving somewhere, or walking through the grocery store?"

I got the same, "Ah, no."

I was shocked.

I told him how when we stop at red lights, I have a whole story about the person in the car next to us.
When we walk through the mall, I watch people and imagine their stories.
It's what I've always done.

He said, "No wonder you get so tired. Your brain never rests."
Maybe he's right.

My first writer's conference was five years ago.
I've gone to several more since then.
I've met some fascinating people.
It's been wonderful.
We're like family, a lot of us.

It's great.
We get together and talk about those invisible people.
We visit about the murder that happened,
the characters who got married, or left in a huff.

Recently, one of my characters died.
I was so sad, I cried.
I didn't know he was going to die.
My friends understood.
They had experienced similar episodes with their characters.

Writing cuts you off from interacting with real people while you're developing the characters wanting out - the story bursting to be written.

We spend a lot of time in our little corners.
But, it's what we're called to do.
It's part of who we are.

Growing up I enjoyed the musical, Cinderella.
I would imagine with Cinderella as she sang, "In MyOwn Little Corner."

During the past five years I have spent many hours in my little corner,
with gunslingers, detectives, immigrants from the 1860s, soldiers from the Civil War,
and it's all been normal
to me.

I don't know about the rest of the world,
but I know I have friends in my corner.
Some I can see.
Some I can't.

It's good to know
I'm in good company.
After all,
What is normal, anyway.

Have a good day in your own little corner.

 

In My Own Little Corner, sung by Julie Andrews (1957)