Memorial Day

(I apologize for the syntax errors in the blog. I am sure there are many. My grammar brain has not yet woken up. Please bear with me for this one. I'll do better next time.)

Today we went to Ft Riley's Memorial Day ceremony. I'm pretty sure we got there on time, but we may have been a few minutes late. The point is we went. The kids we dressed appropriately, and Codey was wearing his dress uniform. During the ceremony the kids were quiet and respectful (even Emilee). They even saluted during Taps and The Star Spangled Banner.

As we were walking to the ceremony, we were passed by a woman and her two boys. They couldn't have been more than 8 and 10, maybe 11. I started looking around, and I noticed a lot of single women with children, and I couldn't help but wonder, "Were these widows of Iraq or Afghanistan?" "Are these children here to honor the memory of their fallen father?" Or, "Are they here because Dad is deployed, and he wants his kids to honor his lost friends?"

I had all these thoughts as we were walking up, and we couldn't even hear the words yet.

I started out wanting to go because I wanted to teach our kids what Memorial Day is all about. I wanted them understand that there were many, many generations before us who sacrificed more than we can imagine to ensure that we have what we do. I wanted to honor the fallen soldiers who gave their lives so their buddy wouldn't have to. Soldiers who died because they believed in the United States and the ideals that we stand for. However, as I was standing there watching the women with their children during the playing of Taps, I thought, "Maybe I'm not here for the fallen soldiers." I realized during that song that I was there for the wives, husbands, children, parents, and other various loved ones who are still mourning that loss. The loss of their spouse, child, parent, or friend, that they will never get over.

I know my husband isn't deployed, nor has he ever been, but it's coming.  Eventually, he will get those orders, and he will go.  He wants to go. It's his job. If he doesn't go, somebody else will. So, he thinks it should be him, and maybe he's right. Why not give some other guy and his family a break? When that time comes, I am sure I will worry about him and his squad. I will worry about so many things. Like, are they getting enough sleep? Is it too hot or too cold for them? Are they missing us like we're missing them? Mostly, as I'm sure you know, I will worry about their safety. I will worry that eventually, the slow driving Ford coming up the road is for us. That they're coming to tell us, "Ma'am, I am sorry to inform you..."

My thoughts today turned into, "I'm so glad I'm not that wife. I don't know what I would do," even as I was standing there looking at what very likely may have been THAT wife. She has gone through an immeasureable amount of pain and grief. She has had to suffer through the loss of her soul mate, while also comforting the children that Daddy left behind. (Note that while I am using "she," I know there are plenty of husbands who have gone through the same thing.)

I realized at that moment that I am not really here for the fallen soldier. I was there for the wife and children. I was paying my respects to them because their suffering is ongoing. It's real. It's here. It's NOW, and it doesn't go away.

So, I will continue to take my children to ceremonies that honor the dead, and I will teach them to honor the living who have been left behind while they're at it. In this military life, they are bound to have friends who lose parents. I wish it wasn't that way, but that sad reality is that over 6,000 coalition forces have been killed since these wars began, and we're not done yet.

Ceremonies may be boring, and they may be pointless to some, but I feel that as a fellow military wife it is my duty, my mission, to teach the next generation to remember. Remember those who have fallen, for sure, but also remember those who are still here.  Thank them for their sacrifice. They deserve it.

Can you ever be prepared?

After spending a week in KC followed by a week in the mountains of Colorado, I have some thoughts. I spent so much time "preparing" for our trips the past couple of weeks. I sat down and thought about what I would need to pack, what I'd pack it in, how we'd arrange it in the trunk (we have a small car, you see), and so many other things that made me feel better about how the trip was gonna go. I even made lists, and I followed them while I was packing ...to the letter.  I was PREPARED!

Then, I got home, and started looking at pictures from the tornadoes that ravaged Kansas, Missouri, Oklahoma, and Minnesota. Surely these people had a plan. They knew where they were going to go if there was a tornado. They all "knew" what they were going to take with them to their designated "safe area." If there was a tornado, they would be fine because they were "prepared," right?

WRONG!

There are so many things in life that we cannot prepare for, no matter how much we try and think we are. I sure thought I was ready for our trip, but I failed to plan for the kids not liking our snacks that we packed. I didn't have enough drinks for the kids. I was not prepared for the kids to wake up randomly in the middle of the night during our drive because their necks were hurting. What was I supposed to do about that?

When I made my packing list for Kansas City, I failed to plan for cold weather. I mean, it's Kansas City in the middle of May. It should be warm and muggy, right? Again...WRONG! It rained and was chillly the whole time we were there. I had to change my packing list as I looked at the weather for our trip. Then, because the kids only have XX amount of warm clothes, I had to do laundry on the trip...definitely not something I was prepared for. Laundry for 5 is a whole different ball game than for a smaller number. Especially when you're doing it for 3 small humans. Keeping track of all their socks is, by itself, enough to cause an anyuerism.

Colorado was a different story too. While I didn't expect it to be WARM by any means, I didn't expect, nor did I PLAN, for it to SNOW! SERIOUSLY, IT SNOWED! Like, three, maybe four, of the 6 days we were there, it snowed.

Then, after I started looking at pictures of the devestation across the midwest and realized, these people planned too. What good did it do them? Absolutely none.  Well, I guess that's not entirely true. Some of them are alive, but for what? They have no home, no job, no vehicle. A lot of these people are older, retired. They spent their whole lives planning for the "golden years" to have it destroyed by a 45 second long
tornado. All that time planning, out the window, quite literally.

It got me thinking, what good are our plans? Why bother? What are we planning for? If you know me, you know I am a planner. I make lists, and I follow them. I even make lists about the lists I'm going to make. I organize my shopping list by store, department and aisle. I kid you know, AISLE!

With that being said, I think, no I KNOW, that I am going to try my hardest to stop with so much planning.  My plans don't really matter. They almost always lead to frustration and irritation on my part.

I am reminded of this verse from Jeremiah 29:11 " ¹¹ For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Why should I be worried about whether my plans are going to work out when the One who created everything from absolutely nothing says to me that He knows His plans for me?

This is not to say that we shouldn't save for retirement or a rainy day, and that we should go through life with aboslutely no sort of planning or preparation whatsoever. But maybe, just maybe, when things don't go the way we expect them to, we shouldn't let our panties get into quite such a big wad. Maybe those "plans" that we had didn't match up to the plans that He has for us.

We need to try harder to remember this. I need to try harder to remember this when things don't go the way I think they should have. It's not really my plan that matters.  Not even a tiny bit.