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)

Friends

Friends.
We walked in the rain. Drenched. Laughing till we cried.
We ran through leaves in the park, and drove through the country
with the windows down, singing at the top of our lungs.
We sat in the quiet, feeling each other's pain at a friend's funeral.
We shared in the joy of each other's victories, and accomplishments.

You are my friend.
We probably don't see each other every day.
Some of us haven't seen each other in years.
But, the bond that brought us together years ago is just as strong.

Some of us made mudpies together, and played hide-n-seek in the dark.
Some of us played Barbies and roller skated together.
We may have ridden bikes, and spent nights giggling when we should have been sleeping.

There are memories only we share.
The time we drove out of town and your dad had to drive hours to come rescue us.
Or when you helped plan my sixteenth surprise birthday party - how hard you tried to get me there, and I wouldn't cooperate.
Remember how we would meet on the corner under the street light, to exchange clothes and notes?
Or when we watched The Way We Were, and then thought, "We drove out of town for that?!"

We may have danced together, and spent hours working on college publications, or going over lab notes.
Maybe we were the geeks who decided to study when our friends kept knocking on our door inviting us to join the dorm party right outside our room.
Or maybe you were the one who told me I didn't have the flu....it was the fruit wine.
(I said I'd never do that again!)
Friends,
We shared secrets, and knew they were safe.
Sure, we had our moments when we didn't see eye to eye.
But, we always got past those times.

Here we are.


It's been a lifetime now.
We moved on, and married, and worked, and had our separate lives.
We diapered our children, loved, and cheered them on in every endeavor they pursued.
We watched as they drove off to college, got married.
Some have children of their own.

We may have met later in life.
Maybe after a move.
In a new town, or a new direction.
Maybe we text, facebook, write, call, or sit and visit.
Maybe we have lunch every now and then.
Maybe we fly, and drive to see each other.
Or maybe we don't see each other at all.

But, you live in my heart forever,
because you are a part of my life.

Michael W. Smith writes, "A friend's a friend forever."
It's true.
A lifetime's not too long to live as friends.

To all my friends through all my life,
I thank God for every remembrance of you.

Happy Valentine's Day.