I wrote two letters to the special ladies in my life. One letter to my bride Susan, the other letter is to my favorite Mother-In-law Harriet. Both of these ladies have been my rock through the years. I can honestly say that I would not be the man I am today without their love and support.
Susan,
What can I say that hasn’t been said before? Looking back at all the cards and letters that I have sent you over the years has left me without original words to thank you for being such a wonderful mother to our kids. You are my wife, confidant, best friend, partner and the mother of our kids. Our kids are like the proverbial snowflake and that is no two are alike. Being a mother to such a variety of kids can’t be easy by any means. No matter the amount of frustration you feel sometimes or the dream of a future that may suddenly change you are always their mom first and foremost. As if that wasn’t enough you have to be “Super Woman” and find room in your heart to help out other lost souls.
Sometimes I’m jealous of the relationship that you have with our kids. I guess I should have known better when I became the third wheel so long ago. Even back then you were a mom that put her kid’s needs first and foremost above her own. I’m not complaining I knew that about you when I signed on. In fact the love that you had for your kids was one of the things that I loved about you. I have to say I do feel an extreme amount of pride when one of our children writes on face book telling their friends that my mom is more than a mother she is my best friend. To be called a best friend by one of your kids is truly priceless.
I have often wondered what our life would be like after the nest was vacated. We’re very close now but I’m smart enough to realize that the zip code and area code may change but not the amount of phone calls from our kids just checking in. How many times after answering a call have I seen you grab your cigarettes, a fresh bottle of diet Pepsi and head out to talk on the phone to one of the kids in need. I always breathe a sigh of relief when you come back in and say all is well.
My years in the military provided for our family but you were then, as you are now the go to person for our children. In my day I’ve spent hours on planes, airport lounges or sitting on the tarmac waiting to get home. Hours have been spent day dreaming of our life together and what the future might hold for us. The United States Army was an unforgiving mistress that dictated the time that I could spend home with my loved ones. Today the Army is a distant memory and the future is ours to enjoy. It’s me and you now; for better or worse, in good times and the bad until death do we part! We have done our time in purgatory it is our turn now to live, laugh and love as though no one is watching us.
Just remember I have loved you before I ever met you. You are the woman that I dreamed of when I was young. You are my soul mate for ever and always. Thank you for being such an inspiration to our kids. Thank you for being there for me and the family when we needed you most. Most importantly thank you for being the best mother possible to our kids.
I Love you Susan and Happy Mother’s Day!
Dave
Harriet,
I just wanted to say Happy Mother’s day to a lady I am honored to call Mom! I know you will never replace my Mom, but you have filled the void that was left when she passed over 20 years ago. I watch you watching my kids and wonder to myself if she would be as proud of my kids as you are. With you by my side I have faced the world head on and have so enjoyed my time with you. Without your continued support and the love of your daughter I may not have become the man that I am today.
Sometimes though there is a side of you that others seldom see. Remember the day that you asked me to put tires around your tomato plants. You look so surprised when I came in and asked for more tires. I would love to say that you suppressed your laughter rather well when you discovered that I placed the tires around the potato plants instead. Notice I said “I would love to say”, you see your laughter that day more than likely led to your issue with changing your pants now years later.
I remember the first time I met you I was pretty nervous to say the least. Having asked Susan to marry me after such a brief courtship must have made you both a little nervous as well? I’m sure Sheldon’s fear of me beating your daughter in the years ahead quickly vanished once he got to know me (right?). Let me just say my first interaction with Sheldon left something to be desired as I tried to engage him in conversation. Try as I might he seemed to answer questions with all yes and no answers that left little to discussion. Soon after wards he drifted off to sleep, after which he headed back outside. I wish someone would have thought to tell me beforehand that Sheldon was hard at hearing.
Have you ever noticed that words or phrases bring you back to a time when life was simple? Talks of roller skating, root beer floats, drive in movies or county fairs are like time machines to the past. Around our house the word Harriet or more affectionately “Harry” makes all those that know you smile. We all have our stories that are told so lovingly to others. You have to know that you’re such an intricate part of my life, my family and close friends that words cannot describe the love that I have for you.
After the death of my father in law and friend Sheldon I wondered what the future would be like for you. All my fears were quickly cast aside and I knew that you were going to be Ok. You started off at a crawl and then took off running as you became more confident. It wasn’t long before you became even more independent and started living the life that you deserved. Then last winter you went down to Texas and came back the owner of a winter get away. I am so proud of you and I’m glad that you’re such a great role model for my kids.
Just the other day you told me “I had to take a nap after making all those goodies for the grandchildren”. I laughed and said all you have to do is change the first part because the last part remains the same. You gave me one of those “What are you talking about Willis looks”. I clarified and said that you could say “I went to golf today and had to take a nap afterwards” or “I went to the Gym today and had to take a nap afterwards”. Where you find the time in your busy schedule to watch the hours of television you T Bo I will never know.
I just want to go on record and say that because your family I have never charged you my normal fee while teaching you Cribbage 101. In fact the other night at Buck Burgers (Actually $1.50) I was not surprised when you admitted that you took $3.00 off someone while playing cribbage waiting for poker to begin. I’m going to say this once and will never repeat it again but I look forward to playing cribbage with you. I watch you play whether as my opponent or partner and have to admit that you’re pretty good if I do say so myself. It seems like just yesterday I was teaching you to play at the kitchen table and now you’re flying solo on the club circuit.
I’m not the only one who adores you, my friends and colleagues all ask about you often. Not to mention what the kids tell their friends after an adventure with Harry. Just so you know Doug, both Bobs and I have made a pact that nobody but us will ever take your money and make fun of you as long as we are around. Your money tin may be lighter now but it’s not empty. Instead it is filled with the laughter and tears that have been shed gambling at the cabin.
You have taught me so much about unconditional love and have stood by my side for almost 25 years. That truly in itself is something that not many can claim and should win you the title of “Mother of the Year” hands down from this day forward!
Admit it Mom there have been some great moments that will never be forgotten. Remember the guess your age booth at Valley Fair or the Doctor talking to me and you about our daughter’s surgery being performed later today. The times we have spent laughing, learning and living will be the treasures that I will carry with me always. One thing that all those that were present that day not long ago will agree on is that Harriet, tent camping and grilled cabbage does not mix. They are a lethal combination just like ammonia and bleach.
To my adopted Mother and best friend I love you! I hope that this Mother’s Day that all your wishes come true.
Your favorite son-in-law (named Dave)
P.S. You’re not the only one that likes the new picture that they put up at church!
Monday, May 9, 2011
Thursday, May 5, 2011
I CAN’T HELP IT! - 4 May 11
I know I promised to be better since my much discussed posting on 8 Apr 11 (Warning – Contents may be harmful to your health). Today I made it back to work after hurting my back last Saturday moving the grandkids 2 story playhouse. I’m still walking similar to the hunch back of Notre dame and someone in the warehouse wanted to know if I was smuggling a corn broom out of there. Why just today my little buddy Phil Moran came by and I actually thought he was standing a little taller. Found out later he had two pairs of boot inserts inside his combat boots.
The Medicine that I took sure made my morning commute more tolerable I even let an older couple pass me for the heck of it (JK). Actually the medicine that they had me on Saturday had me not so regular. Even though I urinated quite frequently I hadn’t gone to number 2 since Saturday. Keeping it short and sweet I have now officially joined the ranks of the pain peelers club. I don’t want to get into the details let’s just say I was so glad that number one stall was open although I may have bent the handicapped rails just a bit. I would be surprised if the cleaning lady stays on here though after her brush with hazardous fumes. Note to self “self maybe it wasn’t the brightest idea that you’ve ever had making your secret recipe chili last night”?
In all my years of back problems I have never felt so miserable and helpless. In less than two weeks my brother Doug and associates are helping me build a pole barn at our cabin up north. I am trying to be good and know that if I was at home I would be overdoing it. I promise that tonight at the cabin I will sit on my hands, take some medicine, and watch one of the two channels all while kicked back in my recliner hoping to get better soon. I just hope that tonight when I get to the cabin that Irving will recognize me. Speaking of Irving I may not recognize him if I forgot to water him last week when I left. I hope I find his leaves pressed against the window eagerly anticipating my arrival. Maybe, just maybe we will both need to recover together.
I hope that this posting finds you all healthy and that you protect your back at all costs. I was young and dumb at one time and thought I was invincible. Years later I find that there is no cure for stupid and wish that I had taken better care of my back. To those of you that asked me what I’m looking for today as I walked in hunched over let me just say it wasn’t the future. To those that made fun of my duck like walk just know that with a rifle I’m pretty good at shooting targets both in and outside of a arcade.
I pledge to you that I may be down right now but I will rise again. Today I’m the fire hydrant but tomorrow if I play my cards right I may be the big dog again.
That is all,
Dave
The Medicine that I took sure made my morning commute more tolerable I even let an older couple pass me for the heck of it (JK). Actually the medicine that they had me on Saturday had me not so regular. Even though I urinated quite frequently I hadn’t gone to number 2 since Saturday. Keeping it short and sweet I have now officially joined the ranks of the pain peelers club. I don’t want to get into the details let’s just say I was so glad that number one stall was open although I may have bent the handicapped rails just a bit. I would be surprised if the cleaning lady stays on here though after her brush with hazardous fumes. Note to self “self maybe it wasn’t the brightest idea that you’ve ever had making your secret recipe chili last night”?
In all my years of back problems I have never felt so miserable and helpless. In less than two weeks my brother Doug and associates are helping me build a pole barn at our cabin up north. I am trying to be good and know that if I was at home I would be overdoing it. I promise that tonight at the cabin I will sit on my hands, take some medicine, and watch one of the two channels all while kicked back in my recliner hoping to get better soon. I just hope that tonight when I get to the cabin that Irving will recognize me. Speaking of Irving I may not recognize him if I forgot to water him last week when I left. I hope I find his leaves pressed against the window eagerly anticipating my arrival. Maybe, just maybe we will both need to recover together.
I hope that this posting finds you all healthy and that you protect your back at all costs. I was young and dumb at one time and thought I was invincible. Years later I find that there is no cure for stupid and wish that I had taken better care of my back. To those of you that asked me what I’m looking for today as I walked in hunched over let me just say it wasn’t the future. To those that made fun of my duck like walk just know that with a rifle I’m pretty good at shooting targets both in and outside of a arcade.
I pledge to you that I may be down right now but I will rise again. Today I’m the fire hydrant but tomorrow if I play my cards right I may be the big dog again.
That is all,
Dave
Monday, May 2, 2011
BR 549 – 2 May 2011
Let me be the first to say that I’m Ok and back on my feet again (kind of). Last Saturday while helping Jacki and Zach move the kids play house from their old place to their new place I might have over done it just a bit. (Insert Susan’s voice saying “You’re not as young as you use to be”) It’s not my fault; I have always been a guy that likes getting his hands dirty. As a senior leader in the Army I was never the guy who sat behind his desk and directed others to do the work. I have always believed in “lead by example” instead of the much preferred “do as I say, not as I do method” that others at my rank have so easily adopted. With that being said I was right there with the young pups trying to lift the oversized plywood playhouse off my trailer. The playhouse stands about 12-13 feet built out of 4x4s, 2x4s, 2x6s, and half inch plywood complete with a newly shingled roof. The three of us were trying to lift it from lying on its side to standing back upright. After a fumbled attempt I said enough was enough and went to get the 4 wheeler with winch. I didn’t want to get anyone hurt and knew it would be somewhat safer with the 4 wheeler.
After it was standing upright again I was loading the 4 wheeler back on the trailer when it happened. I was bent over moving the ramps when my back went out. I felt like my upper torso was a spinning top pivoting on my stationary lower torso. I might have looked like Gumby or SpongeBob Square pants under the influence as I moved around trying to stop the hurt. I know if I was watching some guy going through the motions that I was probably going through I too might have laughed. So I do forgive you Josh and Zach for laughing, but Zach the pooping comment that you made to Jacki really wasn’t that funny.
The trip back from Mankato that day was by far worse than riding my motorcycle back from the west coast back in 1982 after my motorcycle accident. I was still driving because of the car trailer behind and the fact that we still had to pick up a set of doors from my brother Doug on our way home. I didn’t want to relinquish the driving to anyone else and felt as comfortable as I could be given the circumstances. Propped behind the wheel supporting myself by my elbows and knees took my mind off the pain. I wanted to take the pain medicine after I backed up the trailer at Doug’s and after we loaded the doors just in case I became under the influence. The old song from “Heehaw” came to mind as I hummed a few bars of “If it weren’t for bad luck I wouldn’t have no luck at all gloom to spare and agony on me” under my breath as we headed north.
The next few weeks were/are going to be busy to say the least. I have so much to do to get ready for building my garage in less than two weeks. I was supposed to be in Montana on a business trip this week. Susan and I were going to drive out and spend some much needed time together going through North Dakota on our way out and South Dakota on our way home. I envisioned stops at Crazy Horse, Mount Rushmore, Old Faithful and the badlands. I know so much to do, and so much to see in just five days. But if nothing else was accomplished being alone for five days with my bride would have been awesome. With me living at the cabin and her at the house our time together is precious. After the events of the past week I believe a trip out to Montana was just what the doctor would have ordered.
After we got home from Mankato I went to bed to try and get better. I had already taken the muscle relaxant that Doctor Zach gave me and was hoping to sleep it off. Josh left for work and Susan ran to town and I unfortunately had to go to the bathroom. I grabbed the pizza plate off of the night stand beside me and headed off. I wasn’t quite done yet going to pee when Gumby and SpongeBob came back to teach me to dance. I didn’t want to crash into the toilet or land in tub so I moved somewhat faster than a caterpillar tying his 16 pairs of sneakers as I headed back to the sanctuary of our bedroom. I made it as far as the hallway when it was either drop down to my knees now or tumble into the drywall in front of me. I opted to drop to my knees than face the embarrassment of the crash and burn method I was faced with. I made it as far as the bedroom floor when I was stopped dead in my tracks. I couldn’t go forward, back ward, or climb Mt Rushmore to my bed that beckoned me. I was in a position right out of some KungFoo movie as I laid there crouched on the floor in agony. The only thing that kept me sane was Bella and Mikey as they waited for me to let go of the pizza plate. Rather than help me their only thought was you distract him and I will get the plate out of his hand. Two or three different times they attempted to get the plate from me. I’m not sure how much longer I could keep them from the plate but I was determined.
I was still on the floor 25-35 minutes when I heard the garage door opener engage. When Susan walked in minutes later I was so relieved I told her I needed some help and know she was surprised to find me lying there on the floor. I admit this would have been a great time for one of those I’ve fallen and can’t get up commercials to be produced. I know water may have escaped my eyes as Susan gave me the support I needed to get up again. The embarrassment of her calling 911 seemed to be all I needed to get up on my feet again. After careful maneuvering I was able to stand somewhat upright, get some sleep pants and slippers on and then navigate to the top of the stairs. Standing at the top of the steps it looked to me like it was at least a mile to the landing below. Instead it was only seven steps that saved me from an ambulance ride.
I’m not sure how I got to the emergency room once I got in the car. The bumps lining Seventh Avenue were rough to say the least but the end definitely justified the means. Susan left my side for a little while at the entrance to the ER propping me up on the wall while she parked her car. After a few shots of morphine and some muscle relaxant in the emergency room I’m on the road to recovery. I have never been in that much pain before nor do I want to be ever again. As I type this blog I am sitting like an old man in my living room reclined in my non brand named Lazy boy recliner with a blanket covering my lap writing. Hopefully tomorrow after I see my chiropractor I will be better and head off to work.
All I can say is protect your back while you can otherwise you could end up in the recliner next to me cursing those seven stairs to the outside. To my wife Susan I know the past week was a tough one for you. I just thank you for being my rock through the recovery process. I will get better soon and someday God willing we will dance either a Waltz or a Fox trot at our 25th Wedding anniversary.
So if anyone should ask you if you got the license number of the truck that hit me it was BR 549 and Lady Destiny was not driving it!
That’s all for now,
Dave
After it was standing upright again I was loading the 4 wheeler back on the trailer when it happened. I was bent over moving the ramps when my back went out. I felt like my upper torso was a spinning top pivoting on my stationary lower torso. I might have looked like Gumby or SpongeBob Square pants under the influence as I moved around trying to stop the hurt. I know if I was watching some guy going through the motions that I was probably going through I too might have laughed. So I do forgive you Josh and Zach for laughing, but Zach the pooping comment that you made to Jacki really wasn’t that funny.
The trip back from Mankato that day was by far worse than riding my motorcycle back from the west coast back in 1982 after my motorcycle accident. I was still driving because of the car trailer behind and the fact that we still had to pick up a set of doors from my brother Doug on our way home. I didn’t want to relinquish the driving to anyone else and felt as comfortable as I could be given the circumstances. Propped behind the wheel supporting myself by my elbows and knees took my mind off the pain. I wanted to take the pain medicine after I backed up the trailer at Doug’s and after we loaded the doors just in case I became under the influence. The old song from “Heehaw” came to mind as I hummed a few bars of “If it weren’t for bad luck I wouldn’t have no luck at all gloom to spare and agony on me” under my breath as we headed north.
The next few weeks were/are going to be busy to say the least. I have so much to do to get ready for building my garage in less than two weeks. I was supposed to be in Montana on a business trip this week. Susan and I were going to drive out and spend some much needed time together going through North Dakota on our way out and South Dakota on our way home. I envisioned stops at Crazy Horse, Mount Rushmore, Old Faithful and the badlands. I know so much to do, and so much to see in just five days. But if nothing else was accomplished being alone for five days with my bride would have been awesome. With me living at the cabin and her at the house our time together is precious. After the events of the past week I believe a trip out to Montana was just what the doctor would have ordered.
After we got home from Mankato I went to bed to try and get better. I had already taken the muscle relaxant that Doctor Zach gave me and was hoping to sleep it off. Josh left for work and Susan ran to town and I unfortunately had to go to the bathroom. I grabbed the pizza plate off of the night stand beside me and headed off. I wasn’t quite done yet going to pee when Gumby and SpongeBob came back to teach me to dance. I didn’t want to crash into the toilet or land in tub so I moved somewhat faster than a caterpillar tying his 16 pairs of sneakers as I headed back to the sanctuary of our bedroom. I made it as far as the hallway when it was either drop down to my knees now or tumble into the drywall in front of me. I opted to drop to my knees than face the embarrassment of the crash and burn method I was faced with. I made it as far as the bedroom floor when I was stopped dead in my tracks. I couldn’t go forward, back ward, or climb Mt Rushmore to my bed that beckoned me. I was in a position right out of some KungFoo movie as I laid there crouched on the floor in agony. The only thing that kept me sane was Bella and Mikey as they waited for me to let go of the pizza plate. Rather than help me their only thought was you distract him and I will get the plate out of his hand. Two or three different times they attempted to get the plate from me. I’m not sure how much longer I could keep them from the plate but I was determined.
I was still on the floor 25-35 minutes when I heard the garage door opener engage. When Susan walked in minutes later I was so relieved I told her I needed some help and know she was surprised to find me lying there on the floor. I admit this would have been a great time for one of those I’ve fallen and can’t get up commercials to be produced. I know water may have escaped my eyes as Susan gave me the support I needed to get up again. The embarrassment of her calling 911 seemed to be all I needed to get up on my feet again. After careful maneuvering I was able to stand somewhat upright, get some sleep pants and slippers on and then navigate to the top of the stairs. Standing at the top of the steps it looked to me like it was at least a mile to the landing below. Instead it was only seven steps that saved me from an ambulance ride.
I’m not sure how I got to the emergency room once I got in the car. The bumps lining Seventh Avenue were rough to say the least but the end definitely justified the means. Susan left my side for a little while at the entrance to the ER propping me up on the wall while she parked her car. After a few shots of morphine and some muscle relaxant in the emergency room I’m on the road to recovery. I have never been in that much pain before nor do I want to be ever again. As I type this blog I am sitting like an old man in my living room reclined in my non brand named Lazy boy recliner with a blanket covering my lap writing. Hopefully tomorrow after I see my chiropractor I will be better and head off to work.
All I can say is protect your back while you can otherwise you could end up in the recliner next to me cursing those seven stairs to the outside. To my wife Susan I know the past week was a tough one for you. I just thank you for being my rock through the recovery process. I will get better soon and someday God willing we will dance either a Waltz or a Fox trot at our 25th Wedding anniversary.
So if anyone should ask you if you got the license number of the truck that hit me it was BR 549 and Lady Destiny was not driving it!
That’s all for now,
Dave
Friday, April 29, 2011
Request for prayers
Between me and you I started writing this blog before the Angel was born on April 27th, a day that Jacki and Zach were sent down a life path traveled by so many others before them. The path is soft and spongy from the tears that have been shed. Those having previously traveled the path don’t initially notice that the flowers and trees lining the path are bright, colorful and growing beautifully.
I noticed lately a lot of our friends are asking for help in the way of prayer requests. My mother-in-laws niece, a co workers infant daughter, a soldiers spouse left behind, and a buddy’s step daughter are all part of my normal prayers. I say a prayer most days thanking God for my life, my wife, family, friends, and soldiers serving everywhere. I almost always ask that people everywhere learn to play well with others regardless of their beliefs and religion. I normally say my prayers during my morning commute to work. Those of you driving by me may smirk thinking I’m doing the sign of the cross in hopes of making it to the fuel pumps, or that I’m praying that my car makes it in to work. No, I’m actually praying to God asking him to look out for our friends from Texas in hopes their health improves or our friends from Warba and Cottage Grove that their lives will be better as they recover. I never forget to thank the big guy for my life and the spectacular sunrises and the rather impressive sunsets I witness almost daily.
Lately I’ve asked God to help Jacki and Zach travel through the muddy waters. I can honestly say it’s hard to stand in line watching my daughter traveling on the roller coaster of life without stepping forward to make sure that her PPE (Personal Protection Equipment) is in place. Like everyone else I ask the big guy to help them, guide them, and be there as they make their journey. It’s not easy, in fact sometimes I feel like Helen Keller as I stand there not knowing what to say or how to express one’s self.
Not so long ago I heard the pain in Jacki’s voice as she asked me on the phone if Mom was there. I knew instantly something was the matter and waited anxiously to hear exactly what. My worst fears were realized as Mom relayed that Jacki was having complications with her pregnancy. I thought to myself then as I do now that they are already dealing with more than their fare share of troubles. I want to step forward and lighten their load but I know their load is theirs to carry right now. I pray they find their way and they ask God to help them through this troubled time. For the record, I’ve asked God to help all my kids and to be with them all as they travel through life. There is a poem I have always liked titled “Footprints in the Sand” that has always made me reflect on life.
"Footprints in the Sand"
One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord. Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.
In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand. Sometimes there were two sets of footprints, other times there were one set of footprints.
This bothered me because I noticed that during the low periods of my life, when I was suffering from anguish, sorrow or defeat, I could see only one set of footprints. So I said to the Lord,
"You promised me Lord that if I followed you, you would walk with me always. But I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life there have only been one set of footprints in the sand. Why, when I needed you most, have you not been there for me?"
The Lord replied, "The times when you have seen only one set of footprints, is when I carried you.”
Yesterday I too sent out a prayer request on Face book and through my e mail account asking everyone to keep Jacki, Zach and their family in their prayers. Maybe I was too late in asking everyone’s help or maybe the doctor was right when he said “Sometimes there is nothing you can do if it wasn’t meant to be”. Instead of accepting either one I believe it wasn’t his time and that God needed him more. Baby Hercules will never know the world eagerly awaiting his arrival. He will never witness the glorious sunrise or sunsets that God has painted for us. But I feel in my heart and soul that baby Hercules will know he was loved by many and he will be forever. I pray he is with our family now on the other side walking hand in hand with those that have gone before us.
Jacki I swear to you it will get better. I mentioned in the hospital that your mom and I lost a child (Samantha) as well. I find comfort in knowing that through the tragedy of death comes a new commitment to each other and the future. When Mom gave birth to you, and later Josh it truly was a miracle. I can say that being a parent isn’t always about the good times, nor is it about the bad. What life is about in my eyes is celebrating the love we have, the life we have had, and the dreams of what the future hold. I’m asking you to carry a piece of Hercules with you in your heart. I also ask that you teach your family to dance as though no one is watching you. Love as though you have never been hurt before. Sing as though no one can hear you. Live as though heaven is on earth.
Look back years from now and wonder about the man he may have been. Then ask yourself if Hercules would be proud of you for the life you led. Your mom was right in saying we should plant a tree in honor of Hercules. Your idea of plating a weeping willow in his memory is beautiful. His brothers helping plant the tree will make the event all that much more meaningful. If you want we could release some helium balloons carrying messages from the boys. I have beautiful spot in mind near the pond where we can place a park bench. It will be a place to sit in quiet solitude or perhaps listen to the kids as they play nearby. Imagine the whisper of the wind blowing gently through the branches. With the crickets, frogs and the rest of nature’s choir providing the background music. As the seasons change your heart will heal and you will move on with your life.
As I get a little older I get a little wiser. Knowing what I know now, I’m asking my family now before its too late to not morn my death, instead I ask that you celebrate my life and take with you a part of me as you live your life day to day.
That is all,
Dave
P.S. To the duck that held it all together I am proud of you. You were swimming in the pond without even a ripple on the surface of the water. While under the surface you were kicking your legs for all they were worth to stay afloat. It’s ok to rest now and let Jacki know your innermost feelings. Part of the healing process is to share your feelings and to grow together through this experience. I’m asking you from one father to another to let your boys see your tears in order for them to know that it’s going to be ok. Tears are nature’s way of making a bad situation better!
I noticed lately a lot of our friends are asking for help in the way of prayer requests. My mother-in-laws niece, a co workers infant daughter, a soldiers spouse left behind, and a buddy’s step daughter are all part of my normal prayers. I say a prayer most days thanking God for my life, my wife, family, friends, and soldiers serving everywhere. I almost always ask that people everywhere learn to play well with others regardless of their beliefs and religion. I normally say my prayers during my morning commute to work. Those of you driving by me may smirk thinking I’m doing the sign of the cross in hopes of making it to the fuel pumps, or that I’m praying that my car makes it in to work. No, I’m actually praying to God asking him to look out for our friends from Texas in hopes their health improves or our friends from Warba and Cottage Grove that their lives will be better as they recover. I never forget to thank the big guy for my life and the spectacular sunrises and the rather impressive sunsets I witness almost daily.
Lately I’ve asked God to help Jacki and Zach travel through the muddy waters. I can honestly say it’s hard to stand in line watching my daughter traveling on the roller coaster of life without stepping forward to make sure that her PPE (Personal Protection Equipment) is in place. Like everyone else I ask the big guy to help them, guide them, and be there as they make their journey. It’s not easy, in fact sometimes I feel like Helen Keller as I stand there not knowing what to say or how to express one’s self.
Not so long ago I heard the pain in Jacki’s voice as she asked me on the phone if Mom was there. I knew instantly something was the matter and waited anxiously to hear exactly what. My worst fears were realized as Mom relayed that Jacki was having complications with her pregnancy. I thought to myself then as I do now that they are already dealing with more than their fare share of troubles. I want to step forward and lighten their load but I know their load is theirs to carry right now. I pray they find their way and they ask God to help them through this troubled time. For the record, I’ve asked God to help all my kids and to be with them all as they travel through life. There is a poem I have always liked titled “Footprints in the Sand” that has always made me reflect on life.
"Footprints in the Sand"
One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord. Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.
In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand. Sometimes there were two sets of footprints, other times there were one set of footprints.
This bothered me because I noticed that during the low periods of my life, when I was suffering from anguish, sorrow or defeat, I could see only one set of footprints. So I said to the Lord,
"You promised me Lord that if I followed you, you would walk with me always. But I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life there have only been one set of footprints in the sand. Why, when I needed you most, have you not been there for me?"
The Lord replied, "The times when you have seen only one set of footprints, is when I carried you.”
Yesterday I too sent out a prayer request on Face book and through my e mail account asking everyone to keep Jacki, Zach and their family in their prayers. Maybe I was too late in asking everyone’s help or maybe the doctor was right when he said “Sometimes there is nothing you can do if it wasn’t meant to be”. Instead of accepting either one I believe it wasn’t his time and that God needed him more. Baby Hercules will never know the world eagerly awaiting his arrival. He will never witness the glorious sunrise or sunsets that God has painted for us. But I feel in my heart and soul that baby Hercules will know he was loved by many and he will be forever. I pray he is with our family now on the other side walking hand in hand with those that have gone before us.
Jacki I swear to you it will get better. I mentioned in the hospital that your mom and I lost a child (Samantha) as well. I find comfort in knowing that through the tragedy of death comes a new commitment to each other and the future. When Mom gave birth to you, and later Josh it truly was a miracle. I can say that being a parent isn’t always about the good times, nor is it about the bad. What life is about in my eyes is celebrating the love we have, the life we have had, and the dreams of what the future hold. I’m asking you to carry a piece of Hercules with you in your heart. I also ask that you teach your family to dance as though no one is watching you. Love as though you have never been hurt before. Sing as though no one can hear you. Live as though heaven is on earth.
Look back years from now and wonder about the man he may have been. Then ask yourself if Hercules would be proud of you for the life you led. Your mom was right in saying we should plant a tree in honor of Hercules. Your idea of plating a weeping willow in his memory is beautiful. His brothers helping plant the tree will make the event all that much more meaningful. If you want we could release some helium balloons carrying messages from the boys. I have beautiful spot in mind near the pond where we can place a park bench. It will be a place to sit in quiet solitude or perhaps listen to the kids as they play nearby. Imagine the whisper of the wind blowing gently through the branches. With the crickets, frogs and the rest of nature’s choir providing the background music. As the seasons change your heart will heal and you will move on with your life.
As I get a little older I get a little wiser. Knowing what I know now, I’m asking my family now before its too late to not morn my death, instead I ask that you celebrate my life and take with you a part of me as you live your life day to day.
That is all,
Dave
P.S. To the duck that held it all together I am proud of you. You were swimming in the pond without even a ripple on the surface of the water. While under the surface you were kicking your legs for all they were worth to stay afloat. It’s ok to rest now and let Jacki know your innermost feelings. Part of the healing process is to share your feelings and to grow together through this experience. I’m asking you from one father to another to let your boys see your tears in order for them to know that it’s going to be ok. Tears are nature’s way of making a bad situation better!
Friday, April 22, 2011
Making it Right – 22 APR 11
Before I begin I must say I thought that there were very few people left that were still reading my blog. Had I known that my last posting was a little off I may have rethought my posting, then again probably not. To those of you that called me to chat, sent me an e mail or voiced your opinion to mom thank you for your criticism. If I offended you with my last posting consider this my apology, if I didn’t offend you just give me a chance.
Yesterday I spent some time on the internet trying to find out who the fire marshal in my area is in order to get a burning permit. You see I was kind of nervous after talking to a colleague at the VFW who had a run in with the local law. I have spent a few years burning brush at the cabin under the assumption that I didn’t need a permit. Just understand I always have a shovel or a rake nearby and a cell phone in my pocket just in case one of those “Hold my beer and watch this moment“ happens. For some reason or other I had it in my mind that when I asked at the courthouse they said I didn’t need a burning permit. Then again maybe I asked while there was still snow on the ground, who knows for sure.
I wasn’t in the mood to gamble so I decided it was time to get a burn permit. I was thankful that there was an on line application after my fire marshal search left me more than a little frustrated. What a deal $5.00 for a yearlong permit and never having to run to town and get a permit ever again. I filled out the application, located my cabin on the map and then I gave my payment information. I did everything right or so I thought. I stopped at the place in my road where cell phone coverage stops to make my call. I called the number and complied with the request for my permit number and hit the pound key afterwards. I thought the message said thank you but some burning restrictions are in place. The call was scratchy at best but left me with no further options. I hung up and backed up some to get the best of both bars on my cell phone. I redialed the number and went through the process again. Sure enough the message said some burning restrictions are in place.
Thinking to myself I said “self you must have filled out the online application wrong”. So I did what any man would do under the circumstances, yep that's right I used my permit to start the fire. Before you start on me about are you sure you made the right choice? Understand my fire was by the pond and it was drizzling out. If you’re worried about the permit I have other copies but I had marked up the one I sacrificed to the fire gods. This morning at work I found on line that there is a fire ban in place. Had the recording last night said burning ban in place I would have done the right thing instead of lighting up the night.
Some may call me a pyromaniac but the truth is I love being outside and I love having a fire going nearby. Fires seem to bring me back to a place long ago camping with my dad. Life was so simple back then being a little boy memorized by the fire. Hot dogs; marshmallows; s ‘mores; popcorn all cooked over an open fire who could ask for more? What a simple life it was with no thoughts what so ever about what tomorrow would bring.
Flash forward to 2011 and you will find me still memorized by the fire and chilling to the sound of nature’s orchestra. Last night the owls were hooting, frogs were croaking, coyotes were howling and then Bob made a rather loud unpleasant noise and all was quiet. I actually think that a frog croaked after the forest smells were replaced for a moment by last night’s fermented chili.
If you’re ever looking for the cabin just point your car towards the glow in the night sky. You will find me there with a smile on my face enjoying the moment.
Thant is all!
Dave
Yesterday I spent some time on the internet trying to find out who the fire marshal in my area is in order to get a burning permit. You see I was kind of nervous after talking to a colleague at the VFW who had a run in with the local law. I have spent a few years burning brush at the cabin under the assumption that I didn’t need a permit. Just understand I always have a shovel or a rake nearby and a cell phone in my pocket just in case one of those “Hold my beer and watch this moment“ happens. For some reason or other I had it in my mind that when I asked at the courthouse they said I didn’t need a burning permit. Then again maybe I asked while there was still snow on the ground, who knows for sure.
I wasn’t in the mood to gamble so I decided it was time to get a burn permit. I was thankful that there was an on line application after my fire marshal search left me more than a little frustrated. What a deal $5.00 for a yearlong permit and never having to run to town and get a permit ever again. I filled out the application, located my cabin on the map and then I gave my payment information. I did everything right or so I thought. I stopped at the place in my road where cell phone coverage stops to make my call. I called the number and complied with the request for my permit number and hit the pound key afterwards. I thought the message said thank you but some burning restrictions are in place. The call was scratchy at best but left me with no further options. I hung up and backed up some to get the best of both bars on my cell phone. I redialed the number and went through the process again. Sure enough the message said some burning restrictions are in place.
Thinking to myself I said “self you must have filled out the online application wrong”. So I did what any man would do under the circumstances, yep that's right I used my permit to start the fire. Before you start on me about are you sure you made the right choice? Understand my fire was by the pond and it was drizzling out. If you’re worried about the permit I have other copies but I had marked up the one I sacrificed to the fire gods. This morning at work I found on line that there is a fire ban in place. Had the recording last night said burning ban in place I would have done the right thing instead of lighting up the night.
Some may call me a pyromaniac but the truth is I love being outside and I love having a fire going nearby. Fires seem to bring me back to a place long ago camping with my dad. Life was so simple back then being a little boy memorized by the fire. Hot dogs; marshmallows; s ‘mores; popcorn all cooked over an open fire who could ask for more? What a simple life it was with no thoughts what so ever about what tomorrow would bring.
Flash forward to 2011 and you will find me still memorized by the fire and chilling to the sound of nature’s orchestra. Last night the owls were hooting, frogs were croaking, coyotes were howling and then Bob made a rather loud unpleasant noise and all was quiet. I actually think that a frog croaked after the forest smells were replaced for a moment by last night’s fermented chili.
If you’re ever looking for the cabin just point your car towards the glow in the night sky. You will find me there with a smile on my face enjoying the moment.
Thant is all!
Dave
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Warning - Contents may be harmful to your health
Latrine behavior and Etiquette - 8 Apr 11
I know what a strange title for a blog. It’s just recently during my daily bathroom/library trip I was forced to use stall number two at my work. Stall one which is oversized and much more comfortable was occupied already needless to say stall two was my only option. Did I mention that stall one has hand rails, acceptable lighting, magazine rack and a much higher ergonomic toilet? Stall two is always the less preferred because of the size that can be compared to a phone booth. I’m sure the same company that made the phone booths got the bid for bathroom stalls at all government agencies. Stall two is so small (how small is it) that you smack both your elbows into the side walls as you try to slide your Spiderman underwear and pants back up.
As I prepared to do my business I noticed under the divider the coveralls piled around the ankles of the man next to me. Yep sure enough it was my buddy Mr “T” (name changed to protect his identity). It wasn’t our first time for us; we have met before under similar circumstances. Most of you that know me well might say I’m a little modest at times. Others might say I’m a guy that gets things done. But when it comes down to the sanctuary of a bathroom I suddenly become very shy. At that moment I wish that I had been born with a muffler as I tried to suppress the air escaping out of my butt. After a few muffled bursts Mr “T” said softly “Go ahead SGM and let her go were all friends here”.
If he only knew the anxiety that I have with making noises in the bathroom when I’m not alone. If he only knew the possible outcome of his request I know he wouldn’t have asked me to “Let her go”. He was taking his life in his own hands and I could not accept that responsibility. After some small talk he finished his business, slipped on his superman coveralls and returned to work. Yes he washed his hands for what it’s worth. Not that it matters he then touched the door handle that had just been touched by the smelly trucker who didn’t wash his hands before him.
After he left I sat there in quiet reflection and thought that bathrooms + poop = Awkward situations/stories. For example while I was at Ft Lewis back in 2009 I had the unfortunate reaction to shrimp scampi. After walking back from the mess hall I felt pains in my stomach. All kidding aside it felt like my stomach was doing advanced aerobics. My stride increased and I noticed my dinner companion matching me stride for stride. The foot race was on and we wrestled briefly at the men’s room door as I pushed by him to complete my mission. There was no modesty that day as it came down to a do or die situation. The men outside at the urinals, whose eyes were now watering, quickly finished their business and got out of Dodge. Sadly, we both had the same reaction the next two times we ate shrimp Scampi. I know your thinking why in the world would you do that to yourself three times? I have to say it was great food!
Then there was the time when I was in a restroom up north. I was sitting in my stall mentally going through my too do list. It sounded like small arms fire followed by a grenade hitting the water in the stall next to me. Then I heard the man say “nice weather”. Trying not to laugh and a little upset that the quiet solitude had been broken I replied “it sure is”. He then asked how long I had been on the road and I replied “about an hour and a half and you”? He then said rather rudely “I have to go now the guy in the stall next to me thinks I’m talking to him”. My question is who in their right mind talks to someone on their cell phone while going to the bathroom. What do you do with your cell phone while you’re wiping? I know if it was me my phone would slip off my shoulder and land in the muddy waters below.
There should be a law against people using their phones in public restrooms. Imagine the same scene above only this time the man next to you says “Hi I love you”. Sure you’re laughing now but what if the room darkened as he blocked out the light on his way into the bathroom. What if the stall wall was bulging and you heard him say “Daddies thinking of you”! Or even worse hear him say “why don’t you come over to my house and play”.
Can you honestly keep a straight face if you hear your friend talking to you while they are going to the bathroom? Imagine the noises one might make that echo amplified through the phone lines. The water hitting the rocks below might take you back to a trip along the north shore. For me personally, the sound of rounds coming in take me back to a place that I don’t want to be.
Tell me you’ve never been next to nowhere when you notice there is no toilet paper in your stall as you duck walk down the line looking for more. As soon as you start the walk of shame you get caught by the senior citizen that proudly cleans the interstate rest rooms across America. I call it the walk of shame because shame on me for not checking more than cleanliness, lights, and locks on the stall door.
Speaking of cleanliness why is it that guys can’t seem to hit a urinal at less than a foot away but are convinced that they can pee into a toilet without raising the lid? Come on if you’re in a hurry to pee and the kid in front of you is fumbling with his zipper at the urinal go ahead and use the stall. Just use your foot like everyone else to raise the seat up!
All in all times are changing and bathroom behavior is now much more acceptable. I have friends that have decorated their bathrooms by doing their own backsplash. I have friends that have cleared out offices and others that have brought tears to my own eyes. I know bathroom poets and bathroom remodelers. I have friends that have dropped valuables into the forbidden waters and others that have failed to retrieve them. I know one guy that loves to show off his handy work using both corn and peanuts for texture.
My final thoughts as I begin the final descent is never let your turtle show in the middle of nowhere and always keep a clean roll of toilet paper in a baggy under your front seat just in case. This almost sounds like advice from Red Green. With that being said “keep your stick on the ice”!
That is all,
Dave
I know what a strange title for a blog. It’s just recently during my daily bathroom/library trip I was forced to use stall number two at my work. Stall one which is oversized and much more comfortable was occupied already needless to say stall two was my only option. Did I mention that stall one has hand rails, acceptable lighting, magazine rack and a much higher ergonomic toilet? Stall two is always the less preferred because of the size that can be compared to a phone booth. I’m sure the same company that made the phone booths got the bid for bathroom stalls at all government agencies. Stall two is so small (how small is it) that you smack both your elbows into the side walls as you try to slide your Spiderman underwear and pants back up.
As I prepared to do my business I noticed under the divider the coveralls piled around the ankles of the man next to me. Yep sure enough it was my buddy Mr “T” (name changed to protect his identity). It wasn’t our first time for us; we have met before under similar circumstances. Most of you that know me well might say I’m a little modest at times. Others might say I’m a guy that gets things done. But when it comes down to the sanctuary of a bathroom I suddenly become very shy. At that moment I wish that I had been born with a muffler as I tried to suppress the air escaping out of my butt. After a few muffled bursts Mr “T” said softly “Go ahead SGM and let her go were all friends here”.
If he only knew the anxiety that I have with making noises in the bathroom when I’m not alone. If he only knew the possible outcome of his request I know he wouldn’t have asked me to “Let her go”. He was taking his life in his own hands and I could not accept that responsibility. After some small talk he finished his business, slipped on his superman coveralls and returned to work. Yes he washed his hands for what it’s worth. Not that it matters he then touched the door handle that had just been touched by the smelly trucker who didn’t wash his hands before him.
After he left I sat there in quiet reflection and thought that bathrooms + poop = Awkward situations/stories. For example while I was at Ft Lewis back in 2009 I had the unfortunate reaction to shrimp scampi. After walking back from the mess hall I felt pains in my stomach. All kidding aside it felt like my stomach was doing advanced aerobics. My stride increased and I noticed my dinner companion matching me stride for stride. The foot race was on and we wrestled briefly at the men’s room door as I pushed by him to complete my mission. There was no modesty that day as it came down to a do or die situation. The men outside at the urinals, whose eyes were now watering, quickly finished their business and got out of Dodge. Sadly, we both had the same reaction the next two times we ate shrimp Scampi. I know your thinking why in the world would you do that to yourself three times? I have to say it was great food!
Then there was the time when I was in a restroom up north. I was sitting in my stall mentally going through my too do list. It sounded like small arms fire followed by a grenade hitting the water in the stall next to me. Then I heard the man say “nice weather”. Trying not to laugh and a little upset that the quiet solitude had been broken I replied “it sure is”. He then asked how long I had been on the road and I replied “about an hour and a half and you”? He then said rather rudely “I have to go now the guy in the stall next to me thinks I’m talking to him”. My question is who in their right mind talks to someone on their cell phone while going to the bathroom. What do you do with your cell phone while you’re wiping? I know if it was me my phone would slip off my shoulder and land in the muddy waters below.
There should be a law against people using their phones in public restrooms. Imagine the same scene above only this time the man next to you says “Hi I love you”. Sure you’re laughing now but what if the room darkened as he blocked out the light on his way into the bathroom. What if the stall wall was bulging and you heard him say “Daddies thinking of you”! Or even worse hear him say “why don’t you come over to my house and play”.
Can you honestly keep a straight face if you hear your friend talking to you while they are going to the bathroom? Imagine the noises one might make that echo amplified through the phone lines. The water hitting the rocks below might take you back to a trip along the north shore. For me personally, the sound of rounds coming in take me back to a place that I don’t want to be.
Tell me you’ve never been next to nowhere when you notice there is no toilet paper in your stall as you duck walk down the line looking for more. As soon as you start the walk of shame you get caught by the senior citizen that proudly cleans the interstate rest rooms across America. I call it the walk of shame because shame on me for not checking more than cleanliness, lights, and locks on the stall door.
Speaking of cleanliness why is it that guys can’t seem to hit a urinal at less than a foot away but are convinced that they can pee into a toilet without raising the lid? Come on if you’re in a hurry to pee and the kid in front of you is fumbling with his zipper at the urinal go ahead and use the stall. Just use your foot like everyone else to raise the seat up!
All in all times are changing and bathroom behavior is now much more acceptable. I have friends that have decorated their bathrooms by doing their own backsplash. I have friends that have cleared out offices and others that have brought tears to my own eyes. I know bathroom poets and bathroom remodelers. I have friends that have dropped valuables into the forbidden waters and others that have failed to retrieve them. I know one guy that loves to show off his handy work using both corn and peanuts for texture.
My final thoughts as I begin the final descent is never let your turtle show in the middle of nowhere and always keep a clean roll of toilet paper in a baggy under your front seat just in case. This almost sounds like advice from Red Green. With that being said “keep your stick on the ice”!
That is all,
Dave
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Today, Tomorrow and the next day after that – 5 Apr 11
What can I say that has not been said already? Our daughter’s dreams vaporized as well as her hopes of marrying her best friend. All this happened while I was at home rehearsing my soon to be famous “Father of the Bride speech”. The day she told us her news I wanted to tell her that over the years my heart two has been broken and that she is not alone. I wanted to go on and say that she will get over this and the sun will come out tomorrow. That she will be stronger and better prepared for a life that has both love and its share of sadness. Throughout our daughter’s darkest days I have been waiting patiently on the sidelines wanting to make her world better. What I wouldn’t give to take her in my arms and wipe away her sorrow just like when she was my baby girl. But I can’t take away her sorrow, her pain, and I can’t repair her broken heart. This pain that she feels is beyond my capabilities, the superman that I once was to her is now only a distant memory.
To hear her cry and bare her soul for all to see is something that I pray I will never witness again. My heart broke as our daughter’s world crumbled down around her. I wanted to assure her that in pure numbers alone she is one of millions of people that have suffered a postponement of a wedding. I wanted to assure her that life isn’t fair, that relationships are priceless, and that life has its share of heartbreak. How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when somebody's beloved pet gets hit by a car? But all this is just words of comfort that will be spoken by many, but never heard by one.
But broken hearts are what give us strength, understanding and compassion. They say that a heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect. All these words mean nothing as you hear her vulnerability on the phone.
I want to believe that her life will get better and that each day she will be stronger and less vulnerable. I hope and pray that her heart mends and that they resolve their problems whether it be together or apart. I know this hasn’t been easy for either of them. Right wrong or indifferent the future is for them to decide. What bothers me is that all the well wishers mean only the best, but what it actually comes down to is all the eyes are on them right now. I just hope that you ignore their whispers as you both pass by.
What happened I’m asked is always the second question after is Jacki OK? I don’t know, and I’m guessing that even they can’t begin to give you an honest answer. What I can say is that if it was meant to be it will happen. If it wasn’t then close out that chapter of your life and move on. Don’t wait until the final chapter to realize that you could have altered the ending.
If you need me I will be on the sidelines cheering you on no matter the outcome.
Just remember I was the first man that you loved and I have loved you unconditionally always and forever!
Dad
To hear her cry and bare her soul for all to see is something that I pray I will never witness again. My heart broke as our daughter’s world crumbled down around her. I wanted to assure her that in pure numbers alone she is one of millions of people that have suffered a postponement of a wedding. I wanted to assure her that life isn’t fair, that relationships are priceless, and that life has its share of heartbreak. How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when somebody's beloved pet gets hit by a car? But all this is just words of comfort that will be spoken by many, but never heard by one.
But broken hearts are what give us strength, understanding and compassion. They say that a heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect. All these words mean nothing as you hear her vulnerability on the phone.
I want to believe that her life will get better and that each day she will be stronger and less vulnerable. I hope and pray that her heart mends and that they resolve their problems whether it be together or apart. I know this hasn’t been easy for either of them. Right wrong or indifferent the future is for them to decide. What bothers me is that all the well wishers mean only the best, but what it actually comes down to is all the eyes are on them right now. I just hope that you ignore their whispers as you both pass by.
What happened I’m asked is always the second question after is Jacki OK? I don’t know, and I’m guessing that even they can’t begin to give you an honest answer. What I can say is that if it was meant to be it will happen. If it wasn’t then close out that chapter of your life and move on. Don’t wait until the final chapter to realize that you could have altered the ending.
If you need me I will be on the sidelines cheering you on no matter the outcome.
Just remember I was the first man that you loved and I have loved you unconditionally always and forever!
Dad
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