New Year’s Resolutions

Posted on January 3, 2017 by Bob Martin

Two days ago was the start of a new year. I peeked out the curtains to find a freshly-fallen, blanket of snow awaiting us. The trees were all covered in white since no winds were present. The temperatures held in the high 20’s yet with the morning sun, it felt much warmer than that.

I stepped outside to find that the snow was pure – not a single footstep of man or beast had intruded the area. I walked to the end of the front porch to look towards a cloudy sky that was being slowly forced out by a bright blue. A single bird floated in the sky high above. I truly wondered if some magic had happened over night when the clock struck twelve. It felt as if with the introduction of the new year, all of the troubles of the world had disappeared. But alas that is not the case. While our little corner of the world looked clean and pure, the world is the same today as yesterday.

As I was out for a run jog walk (everything was covered in ice), I gave most of my thoughts to this new year and how people watched it come in with high hopes and expectations. I thought about all of the New Year’s resolutions that had been made last night, and how long they would last. I thought about how we constantly hear complaints about the younger generation and wondered if our drive to create these resolutions might be part of the issue.

New Year’s resolutions started over 4000 years ago with the Babylonians. They made promises to their gods to take care of debts and such in order to have the gods do them a good turn. Today, the promises are more inward in hopes of improving ourselves. I wonder if the Babylonians had any better of results with their resolutions.

I have no issue with people trying to improve themselves either in health, work, family relations or others. The question I pose is why, 4000 years later, do we feel the need to hold all of these wants to change to a single day of the year. By doing this are we not setting ourselves up for failure? We hold the hopes that some magic will happen and that overnight, we will change.

A few years ago, I took a leap and jumped off of the resolution bandwagon. I started making it a point to look at who I am each and every day. I still believe in making resolutions to become a better person, but I stopped waiting for that magically nanosecond between one year and the next. I make the plans, lay out the methods, and then start the work. The work. Every single resolution made by any person requires work not just dreams. However, since I tackle just one resolution at a time, I find that my chance of succeeding goes up. I can concentrate on just one thing at a time, and not have to worry about trying to forge ahead with multiple goals at any given time.

This method also helps me when I do stray or totally crash and burn on a given resolution. Having one goal at a time (or a couple) makes it easier to start again when I falter. In the past, I would break one resolution and then let it go hoping that the others would make up for the broken one. By February, like most people, not only had I broken most, if not all, of my resolutions, but they were totally erased from my thoughts. I lost interest in trying to make so many changes at one time. If I did have a moment where I thought about those unfulfilled promises, I promised myself to do better next year. Poof – the burden of failing was pushed off for 10 or so months. Now, since I do not rely on the calendar, I work every day on one or two goals.

As I pondered the whole premise of resolutions, I thought about our younger generation and how so many comment about how they want instant gratification and no work. While I do not believe this is true, let’s think about it for a moment. I do not place the blame on New Year’s resolutions, I do question what we teach our young people when we get them going on the whole make the next year better. We ask them to believe that by making resolutions, life gets better. We show them that we can make promises knowing that most of them will never be kept. We teach that it is okay to have good intentions and not to worry when we do not follow through. They learn that it is okay to let promises fall aside with the thoughts that they will do better next time.

It’s funny. While writing this, I just realized that we have never brought up New Year’s resolutions with our daughter. I do not believe that this was done intentionally; it just happened. When we have conversations with her, we ask how she thinks she is doing and if there is anything she needs to work on. Sometimes the answer is no – sometimes it is yes. We have accidentally taught her to work on those improvements as she notices the need. We have somehow avoided the magic of that Nano-second with her.

So today is January 3, 2017. I make a resolution to write more of my thoughts on paper. I resolve to write for me, and, while I share my writing, write without fear of comments or criticisms. I do not make this resolution because of horns and noisemakers, I make it because I realized today, I need to work on this.

I will still continue on the resolutions I made during the past year or two. The nice thing is that these are already becoming part of me. I have worked on my fitness. I am working on helping others, I am working on finding ways to be better. It is just a whole lot easier knowing that these are not new. I have been working them each and every day.

So Happy New Day to all. For it is each and every day that we are given the chance to start anew. May you succeed on whatever resolutions you made, and if need be, pick one for this month and spread the others out. May you find success in so many ways over the next 365 days.

Thank you for meandering with me today and for the last 365 days,

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Here’s to 2016

Posted on December 31, 2016 by Bob Martin

For the last six months, I have seen a number of people posting how they wanted 2016 to end. A number of celebrities passed away this year and with each name added to the roster, more people jumped on the bandwagon blaming the year and cursing it. Of late, I even saw a meme stating that the poster wanted to stay awake to midnight on December 31st in order to watch the year die. I have found both the blaming of a year and the pleas to have time rush by interesting and ironic.

Now I do not accept for a moment that people are truly blaming the year of 2016 for all of these deaths, but, in a way, they are correct for it is time that will kill us all. However, it is not planned by the calendar. In talking with friends, I am told that the sadness comes due to the fact that with each celebrity passing, we lose a little part of ourselves. People have memories within their own lives that involve different songs, movies, shows, etc. So when a celebrity dies, so dies a little part of us.

In doing a little research, I did find a number of articles that stated that we did not lose more celebrities this year than others. Perhaps it was just the status of those who passed that make it so. Perhaps it is short memories of who we lost in the past. Either way, I do believe that my generation or the one just prior gives much more notice these passings than past generations. One of the reasons might be is that, as a society, we have made more celebrities. Therefore, it only stands to reason that we would be losing more as time goes on. I also wonder if the sadness of their passing might be a hint that we are all moving towards an end that cannot be avoided.

So with all the wishes of 2016 to come to an abrupt end. I am left with two thoughts.

Are we idolizing the wrong people? Each and every day, we are losing people in this country, in this world who have done so much more to make this a better world. They gave of themselves in so many ways, and yet they slip quietly away with little more than a line or two in the local paper. Some of those people are veterans both young and old. I am currently reading All the Gallant Men. If you want to see why we should mourn the passing of each WWII veteran, pick it up and have a read.

However, it is not just veterans for whom we should mourn. Each and every day in our world there are people out there working hard to support their families and work within their local communities. They struggle to make ends meet and yet still go out and help others. What we should be doing is looking around our little small corner of the globe and find those people. We should be writing articles about them, celebrating their lives, and mourning their passing.

The second thing I have learned through this year is that, perhaps, we are looking at life in the wrong ways. This is coming from a person who suffered a loss as well. While grief needs to happen and there is a place and time for it, we need to be looking for the good. Instead of mourning the passing of a celebrity, we should be celebrating the joy and happiness that they brought us. Dance another dance to a song they gave you, cry to a movie that they shared, laugh at some comedy that was given to us. Celebrate them.

More importantly, celebrate 2016! Good things did happen this past year. The Olympics brought us a new gymnast that gave people something to smile about. Panda Bears are no longer endangered. Measles have been wiped out of the Americas. If you are a Cub’s fan, you really have something to cheer about.

Bad things did happen this past year. Some came by choices of people. Some came through nature. Some a combination. Just the same, we shouldn’t ask for life to hurry up and let a year pass. For then, we are just asking for our time to end sooner. Instead tonight, don’t cheer that the year ended because it was so horrible. Take a moment and list the good things that happened to yourself or others. If you can’t then thank the year for letting you realize how good other years were. Yes. I will say a little prayer for my mom tonight and her passing. Then I will have a smile as I remember every moment I had with her.

So thank you 2016. Yes. I saw some lows, in those lows, you made me realize just how good the highs are.

 

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I Stood and Saluted

Posted on December 28, 2016 by Bob Martin

Over the past two weeks the world lost two celebrities and a hero. While it was sad to hear about George Michaels and Carrie Fisher, for my wife’s family it was more the passing of Harold Mufford that made the impact – a hero has passed.

We have lost another of the few WWII veterans. Today, it was my honor to stand in a small crowd to say good-bye. Most of the crowd was made up of Harold’s family. Considering the man was survived by his wife, four children and three children in-laws, six grandchildren, and eight great-grandchildren, just the family filled many of the chairs. I attended with my wife, Harold’s cousin. His youngest daughter and my wife have been good friends for almost 40 years. There was no way we would miss this send off. Family takes care of family.

I had the honor of meeting Harold about five years ago. I spent time talking with him while he shared his stories of his life. The stories covered so much of his life. I was in awe of this man and all that he had accomplished in his life. I learned a little as to why his generation was called the greatest. Here was a man who had served his country, his family, and his town. This man was a husband, father, veteran, mayor, council member, and community member.

Last night, I had the chance to read some journal entries from Harold’s missions in WWII. I read events of a twenty year-old that gave me goosebumps. I read about Harold being held by his feet at 30,000 feet as he dangled out of the bomb bay in order to bring up damaged doors. The book was filled with a list of every single mission and trials and tribulations that a young man should never have to face.

It was the news article to the side that really caught my eye. Last January, Harold and his wife passed a mile stone of which I have never known another to reach. Harold and his wife celebrated 70 years of marriage. These two people had gone through every high and low imaginable. They stayed together through it all and managed to do it with love.

This morning, Nancy and I, along with many others, came together for a final send off. We listened to the family share stories of this man. We heard how he managed to get through life with humor. His children told how he taught them right from wrong, to do right, and that parenting isn’t always fun and games. It is about making the tough choices.

After the funeral home, we moved to the cemetery. However, first the procession took a tour of town. As we passed his favorite restaurant two servers stood outside to say their good-byes. We passed his house. We pulled into the cemetery to find two soldiers standing at attention in honor of one of their own coming home to rest. We huddle in a small group as the two soldiers took up their posts. One marched about twenty paces away and picked up her muted bugle. There in the silence of the morning with a cold wind gently blowing, the flag in the distance at a full wave, Taps blew. The haunting sound drifted across the air. My days of old came back to me as I stood a little taller, my feet came together, I dropped my wife’s hand, and my right hand slowly came to the rim of my cap. I, along with two others, gave a final salute to Harold. A man who deserved to be saluted.

Over the last two days, I have had a chance to visit a time when the young people of this country came together to stand united. I am not going to say that things were perfect or great back then – they weren’t. However, we were attacked and the people said no. I was given the chance to wonder if I could have or would have done the same. I saw a glimpse of a generation that only has a few that remain. The sadness was almost complete. Almost.

The real sadness came when I started watching a little bit of news last night and then today. I saw what has been happening at malls across the country. I saw the stories of how young people have been getting into huge fights in food courts and stores. I sit here and watch how police are having to go store by store to find people that are involved and remove them from the malls. From the stories I have seen and read, there doesn’t seem to be a reason for these fights – it is just people wanting to fight.

As I see each story, I think of Harold, his peers, those with whom I served, and those who serve today. Those people didn’t want to fight, but were called to for a reason. Today, people want to fight, but don’t seem to have a reason. I don’t know how to fix what is happening. Perhaps no one does and it is something that will need to play out. I hope, pray, and believe that this current generation can step up and be just as good as Harold’s. Time will tell.

So goodnight dear Harold. May you rest in peace. You did your family proud. Taps is still echoing for you. You set the example for many to follow. I pray that we do.

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I am no Longer a Kid

Posted on December 25, 2016 by Bob Martin

This Christmas has been different. The entire year has held a number of events that make me take pause as I sit here in the dark staring at the Christmas lights fill the corner of the room. Like every year, there have been ups and downs. The downs however have been a little lower than most years. This Christmas I am no longer a kid.

I look at the lights. I let my mind wander to Christmases in the past. I can remember the Christmas in which my brother and I got in trouble for spying and discovering our presents. Memories stream by of Christmases in which my brothers and I would sit and play with our gifts – I still can feel the Goodyear Blimp model in my hand as the messages rolled past. I can hear the whimpers of a small, young Old English Sheep dog as she lay in the GI Joe tent. My dad woke us so early that I couldn’t even register that it was a real dog. Meals, families, trips, celebrations, and so much more come to mind. In the end, they are just memories. I am no longer a kid.

It may seem odd that at 51 I am stating that I am no longer a kid. Actually, those who know me probably would state that I wasn’t a kid even when I was a kid. I was old even when I was 10. This year is different.

As most who read my posts already know, we are only three months from saying good-bye to my mom. This is that dreaded first holiday after losing a loved one. We have all gone through it. So many of my friends have already lost both parents and spent many a holiday with just memories. That first one is the strangest. This was that year. We have gone 36 Christmases without my dad, but in all that time, having my mom around still allowed me to feel like a kid at holidays because she was there. This year I am not a kid.

I need to break at this point and state that this is not a plea for sympathy or sadness. I am just stating what is going on. I celebrate my mom and the time I had with her each and every day. Today, I held her even closer to my heart. It is only now as the last few moments of the holiday tick away do I really take in the fact that this year is different.

Leading up to the holidays, life was so busy that I never really had the chance to think about the hole that would be there for the family celebration. The universe kept me hopping and that was okay with me. I didn’t want to go down that tunnel. Life gave me a detour. Eventually, life quiets and you have no choice but to face reality.

Last night we had our family celebration at my brother’s house just like every other year. When you put that many people into one house, it is loud, busy, and chaotic. Quite honestly every time I tried to think of my mom, something happened to keep me from allowing the thoughts to grow. In hindsight, I think she had a hand in this since that would have been the last thing she would have wanted. This morning was even faster as we woke, unwrapped the presents, and ran out the door for a two-hour drive to Pennsylvania to be with more family.

We spent the day with a wonderful group of family that included a three-year-old and our nine-year-old. No time for sentimental thinking. Then the drive home happened. After two whirl-wind days, the conversation was light to non-existent. I drove in silence listening to Christmas music (something I do all year long). As we reached Western New York, Christmas Shoes came on the radio – you know the song about the little boy trying to get that last gift for momma before she meets Jesus. That is when life no longer tried to keep me from thinking. I started thinking about all the things my mom did when we were growing up to make Christmas special for my brothers and me. I would never be able to count all of the cookies we made together during our early years. We were never banned from helping out, as a matter-of-fact it was expected. I remembered my dad filming the presents being opened on a camera that included a 3-foot light bar. My mom cooking dinner filled my senses. All those times, after losing my dad, that my mom hid her own sadness and loneliness to ensure that happiness filled the house on Christmas day. Everything came rushing back as I imagined her being with Jesus tonight.

I think the moment when it really hit home came shortly after coming back into the house. I went to pick up the phone to call my mom to let her know that we had arrived back safely from our trip. I wanted to ask her how her Christmas had been. I picked up the phone and realized that her number is no longer there. I was no longer a kid and that would never be again.

I have already stated that this is not about sympathy for I was with my mom tonight. I put our daughter to bed and thought about the day. I could hear my mom telling me that now it was my turn to ensure that our daughter continues to have those types of memories that she had given to us. She told me to not be sad for her because she is no longer alone or sad. She commanded me to give our daughter the gift of me more than gifts under the tree. I sit here and watch her sleep under the tree by her bed and pray that I can give her Christmases that will only bring good memories when the time comes when she no longer has me.

I miss my mom. There is no denying that and any attempt to do so would just be lies. However, sadness is not in my heart. Thankfulness is in my heart. Love is over flowing from every vein. Smiles fill my face. Arms that cannot be seen rest on my shoulders and give a squeeze every once in a while. I had 50 years of Christmases with my mom, for that I cannot be sad for there are so many who do not get that chance. I am thankful for each and every Christmas. I am blessed with memories that will come to me each and every Christmas. I would give anything for her to have been here this year, but I will be grateful for the years that we had.

Tonight I am no longer a kid. I am only a parent. I pray each and every second of every day that I can do half as good of a job as my parents. I realized that I am still opening presents from my parents for they set the bar high for me. They taught me how to do this right. Without the love that I still receive from them, I could not, would not be me.

For those who have lost a loved one this year. I know the hole you have in your heart. It will never close, but it will get better over time. For those who have lost one or both parents, I pray that you can find peace with them being with God. For those who still have one or both parents with them, give them an extra hug. Pick up a phone and check on them. Make memories so that when you are no longer a kid, you have memories to fill the void that will be there.

I hope you all had a good day be it Christmas, the second day of Hanukkah, or just a day. Thank you for meandering with me.

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December 24th

Posted on December 24, 2016 by Bob Martin

I sit here late into the evening on December 24th. So many thoughts of the past year and all that has happened passing through my mind. Over the last few weeks, I have heard a number of friends and colleagues talking about how they cannot wait for 2016 to end. So many people talk about how hard this year has been for so many different reasons. Deaths, money problems, loss of friendships, loss of jobs, and many other things fill out the list of why, to quote so many, “2016 SUCKED!” My family and I are not without our own reasons for wanting to hear the shouts and cheers of Happy New Years – a fresh start. But first there is tonight. December 24th.

I try very hard to look for the good in even the worst of situations. I am sure that some look at me as naïve or a person with his head-in-the-ground because I refuse to see only the negative. It would be easy to stop and just scream about how horrible the world is. I cannot, and tonight is one of the reasons why I try to see good.

I sit here in my father-in-law’s basement typing away while my wife is reading a book to our daughter. There is a small Christmas tree on the desk next to her bed and a flame in the stove. The only other light comes from my screen. I hear their laughter. I listen to the story. I stare at the tree. This evening still means as much to me as it did more than 40 years ago. I am instantly transported back to my living room when I was a little older than our daughter. I can remember being stretched out on the floor next to the tree all alight. Music played on the stereo. I was alone with the exception of our Old English Sheep Dog, Lady. She offered herself up as my pillow. I laid on the floor looking at the lights. That night, just like this, those lights give me a sense of calm, peace, and hope. This evening I even have more hope than before.

Tonight for the first time in 40 decades, quite possibly the same year as described above, the world has two holidays happening. Of course we have Christmas Eve. Many of my friends are preparing for Christmas. Presents are being wrapped, food is being cooked, people will go to church tonight or tomorrow, and families will come together. It is also the first day of Hanukkah. Presents are being wrapped, food is being cooked, candles are being prepped, and families are coming together.

Two major religions are celebrating two miracles that took place oh so long ago. Both miracles offered up faith and hope. Both are still celebrated thousands of years later. I love when these two holidays come together on the calendar. It offers a chance to see how much we share in common. We can see the love that so many in the world have to offer, and, if for only a little time, people can be nice to each other.

This goes for those of a faith and those who celebrate Christmas without the religious aspect. A good part of the world will take the next 24 hours, or 8 days depending, and have a little more patience, a little more helpfulness, and a little more love. People will give of themselves to help others. Some, who serve all year long will continue to serve, but will be thanked for it. The world will find a little bit of peace. When I think of this, I always remember the story of how the Germans and Brits (or Americans depending on the teller) stopped fighting WWII one Christmas Eve. They found peace and were, for a short time, no longer enemies. Unfortunately, with the end of the holiday came the end of the peace. If only that peace could have spread.

So I want to wish everyone a Merry Christmas, a Happy Hanukkah, or just a wonderful and beautiful day. I pray that today each heart feels a little lighter. A little less burdened. A little happier. For those who have lost someone over the last 12 months, I pray that that person is with you in spirit, and that you may remember the good times, the celebrations, and just the time that you had with them. May whatever family arguments that happen be resolved quickly and not take from your day.

Most of all, I wish that the true meaning of these days stay with you long after the tree is taken down or the last candle has been lit. May something touch your heart deep enough that it stays with you. May enemies start to find common ground. May people of the world realize that we need to work together in order to make this blue marble work. May all of the people start to feel hope that tomorrow will be better.

I recently heard a talk show host state that there was no such thing as hope and faith. It is only through hard work that things get done, and hope and faith are for the lazy. While I cannot hope that my work gets done, I can have hope for the world. I give that hope to each of you as a present this year. Have hope that this world will get better. Have hope that the rulers of the world will do right by all. Have hope that people will care for one another. Have hope that even at the darkest of times, there is still a light.

I just heard Santa is almost here so I will close. Thank you for meandering with me and here is to having hope as present that will be with us forever.

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Walking on Halloween Night

Posted on November 1, 2016 by Bob Martin

pumpkinsWalking down the street
All is dark

Screams and squeals
Children happy
Children scared

Another house
Another door
Knock knock knock
Just one more

Here a bar
There a sucker
Another block

Count the kids
Watch for cars
Whose kid is that
Where is Jehoshaphat?

Another corner
Two groups meet up
Children call out greetings
Parents look at each other
No words said
The looks in the eyes say all

Why
Why do this every year
Children squeal with delight
No longer wondering
Fearing the day it will be no longer
Hoping for many years to come.

Happy Halloween

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Lessons Taught with Eyes Closed

Posted on October 14, 2016 by Bob Martin

20160405_182624Last Saturday, we had the honor and privilege to watch a couple from our parish wed during our evening Mass. What really made it different was that she is 79 and he is 81. Every person watching had smiles from ear to ear. However, that was not the best part of the evening for me. It happened later in the evening during a small reception.

Amongst the tables was a small opening that turned into the dance floor. The newlyweds took to the floor. Half-way through the dance I noticed our daughter starting to sway to the music. During the next song, my wife and I, along with other couples, joined the couple on the floor. We noticed that our little one also came out to the floor. At first she was dancing with a friend and then her dancing went solo. It was fun watching her flit around on the floor.

My mind started to record all of these events. The song finished and off we went to mingle (yes – I mingled). Our daughter and her friend went over to talk with the person running the music. We could see them laughing and looking at playlists. Every once in a while she bounced back out on to the floor and danced a little. Before I could snap a shot, off she went. Then came the moment that will be with me from now until my memories fade.

I could hear Phillip Phillips’ Home start to play. I knew in an instant that it had been requested. By this time, we were back at our table talking. I saw her go out to the floor and just stand still. Slowly, so slowly, her head and shoulders started moving to the music. Soon her whole body was just moving in time with the song. Her eyes were closed. At first I thought she was out there to gain attention, and, for all I know, that may have been the original thought. But the music took over.

Then her right leg slowly circled out and around; her toe dragging throughout the movement. Her left arm slowly came up and over her head and then the whole body twirled around – eyes closed the entire time. Her head dropped and tilted to the side. Her eyes opened and searched upwards. She progressed into a mixture of ballet and jazz. She was lost inside her own world. I watched and was amazed at what I was seeing in front of me.

My Daddy pride started to well up inside. I broke my gaze for a moment so that I could get rid of that dust in my eyes. That was when I realized that I was not the only one taking in this dance. So many of the eyes around the room were on this solo dance taking place.

The room watched this normally bouncy, talkative, energetic 8-year-old sink into her soul and let the music take hold. She stood in the middle of the floor. Her hair was done up in a bun and she wore a beautiful peach-colored dress that rose just slightly with every twirl. Her movements provided so much emotion as she forgot about the world and allowed one of her favorite songs to wash over her.

I wanted to capture this moment for eternity. I grabbed my phone and hit video and record. I was so taken by what I was watching that I never noticed until the end that I never really started recording. I was so disappointed in multiple ways as the song ended. Our little dancer, reminded me of a figurine on a music box, came back into reality. I think she noticed the eyes as she finished for she let out a little smile and then her eyes quickly went to the ground as she walked off the floor. I was also saddened that I did not get this on tape.

Throughout the week, I came to realize that while I did not get it to share with the family, I did take it in with my mind. Many times during the week when things get rushed and busy, pictures of her dance would come back to me. While listening to the radio together in the morning and this song comes on, I flash back to her dance. I hope and pray that when I start losing different memories that this is the last one to go. I hope if I ever forget, I come back and read this again.

Often when I write, I write about lessons I learned. I think the lesson I learned today is that not everything needs to be filmed. Sometimes you just need to not worry about recording and be in the moment. All too often when at a school event all you see is iPads filming and parents taking in the events through their screens. That evening the event called out to me so much that I never looked at it. I watched our daughter. She spoke volumes without saying a word. She gave those in the room a special present without knowing that she was giving a gift. It makes me hopeful that more of these moments come when she forgets about the world and let her inner beauty come out. I will just have to carry a handkerchief more often.

I hope that each of you get these moments too. Thanks for meandering with me tonight.

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Lessons Relearned

Posted on October 12, 2016 by Bob Martin

Angry young menTonight’s post, while not a repeat, is about a subject I wrote about a few months ago. Choices. Choices that we make and choices that we believe that others make us choose. I found myself upset today at another person and then at myself. This world has us going at a million miles an hour. In that whirlwind, we allow snap judgements, decisions, and actions to occur. It is only after the fact that we can finally take a moment to look back and see what actually happened.

I am sure all readers are well aware of the news over the Samsung Note 7. It blows up! I purchased mine to replace an older version which I liked, but needed to update (okay – I didn’t need to update, but I did). Then a few weeks ago news broke of the problems with the phones. Knowing that I needed to get on a plane to fly home, and hearing that the FAA didn’t want them on airplanes, I ran and replaced the bad version with a new phone. Now, this week, we hear that the placement phones are doing the same. Nothing like waking up one morning to hear that Samsung recommends turning the phone off and not using it – yeah, like that can happen in this day and age.

This lead to a fun phone call with Verizon in order to check on the turn in procedure. The representative told me not to worry since it is only a small number that have caught fire. When asked if he would like to be the person to tell me that one day and have my leg burn off the next, the representative suggested that I go to the store and turn it in.

This is where the story actually starts. Our daughter and I went to the store last night only to find out nothing could be done. We had set-up to start a new phone plan on the 20th. Apparently this messed up the paperwork for the exchange. I spent over an hour before asking if they could fix the issue and text me. “No problem,” was the response. Jump to today.

I went back to the store and heard the check-in person tell the gentleman before me that the wait was 30 minutes. After 10 minutes, a young representative came out. He told me that he looked at my account and due to the new plan, I would not get the huge discount that I was given two months ago, would have to pay full price, and that it would be done in monthly installments. When I informed him that I was still on the old plan, the representative informed me he knew that but the pending order stopped him from doing anything. I allowed my frustration to peak and asked, “So the customer gets screwed?”

He replied, “there is nothing we can do.” I had had enough and left the store. I tried to call the company but was on hold during my entire drive. Apparently, I was not the only one having problems. When I got to my computer, I decided to see what my fingers could do on-line. I saw that I could do an upgrade, and, sure enough, when I clicked on it, it asked if I wanted to cancel the plan change allowing me to once again have the discounted price. I drove back to the store.

After dealing with the manager, we were able to sort everything out. At the end, the manager stated that he was glad it was done. I told him that he owed it to his salesman to train him so that he knew how to do this. Then it would be done.

So why share this?

While I did not scream and throw a tantrum, I came very close to bursting out in anger. I walked away before I did, but I did get angry. I was mad at the company. I was mad at the sales representative. I was mad. They made me mad…. or did they?

I have written about an old Chief Master Sergeant in the past who talked about just this. I will remember to my last days his comments at my commencement from Airmen Leadership School. Every emotion you have is your choice. Everything you do is your choice. You and only you get to decide when to be angry, happy, sad, or otherwise. On days like this it is hard to take the responsibility. But I am reminded of the old saying that I have heard time and time again – when you are pointing the finger of blame at someone, four fingers are pointing at you.

All of these words came rushing back to me. Then I got angry again, but this time I chose to be upset. The representative was doing his job (quite possibly he knew what to do but had been taught to offer the one plan first). I wasn’t getting what I thought I should be given so I chose to get upset. I chose to walk out. I then chose to go back and fix it. Everything was a choice and it was mine to make. I calmed down. Life continued.

Then I saw all of the Facebook postings. While I will not push for one side or the other, I see people questioning why all of the arguing, screaming, and disagreement. These people are also making choices. People choose to post, others choose to read, and yet more choose to argue. What would happen if we all choose to stop? We choose to not let others upset us to the point that we add argumentative posts. What would happen if we all choose to stop the bickering and have discussions, or if we just understand that Facebook postings do not change the minds of others and just let it go.

So tonight I choose to stay calm. I choose to research what I will be voting for, and I choose to no longer get upset due to the actions of others.

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Lesson Learned from Bathroom Tile

Posted on September 19, 2016 by Bob Martin

modernes Bad badezimmer mit farbigen fliesen blau weissRecently I posted on Facebook a request for prayers, but I did not put out any details. At the time I posted, it was too hard to write things out. Thanks to our daughter, I am in a better place. This all came about due to a lesson in the color of bathroom tiles.

Without going into too many details, my mother has been in the hospital for almost a week. Things are confusing at the moment, and, quite honestly, we are not sure how things will turn out. We do ask for continued prayers and/or good thoughts.

I was thinking all day about writing on how it is to have an aging parent and trying to deal with issues while 3000 miles separate us. I was going to put my heart out on my sleeve and let it all out. That was until a walk after dinner. That walk, a little over a mile, changed my heart, my soul, my outlook, and my spirit.

I have often heard that walking is the best thing when dealing with difficult times. Many times in the past, I have used a walk to clear my head. Tonight, while eating dinner, I asked our daughter to take a walk with me. My wife had to pass since she had overdone it with her knees tonight. I still wanted to walk to talk with our little one, and give her a bit of an understanding on what is happening. Being an 8 year-old, she groaned but consented.

We started our walk talking about Nana. I tried to put what was happening into an 8 year-old’s vocabulary. She asked some questions and waited for the answers. She asked me how I was. A little child had the wherewithal to question how I felt. We broke it down into three possible scenarios. 1 – Nana gets better, goes home, and continues on. 2 – Nana stays the same and may have move to be in a place where they can take care of her. 3 – We may lose Nana. Our little one asked more questions about her treatment. Then our little one declared that it will be number 2 and then move on to number 1. She is an optimist.

We walked along in silence. She took my hand as we walked. She let go to look at sky. I joined her with pretend binoculars. We stared at the clouds slowly moving along the sky. She took my hand and no talking happened. I started to drift back to what was going on and how we would deal with life. Then we walked by a mansion at the top of our street. Our little one commented on that and another house. She then asked if I wanted to know about the house she was going to live in. I agreed. I thought I might get the color and how many bedrooms where in this dwelling. How could I be soooooo wrong?

We then spent the better part of a mile talking about her future home. We started with the fact that it would have three bedrooms, 2-1/2 baths, a full basement, and a four room main floor. I thought about how much thought had gone into this house. She was not done. Her voice went up, her eyes lit up, and her pace quickened. “Let me tell you about the kitchen!” I was entertained by a completed description of this important room. I heard about the island, the floor, the table and exactly what would go on it, and the tiles along with their design. The dining room included the description of her china pattern.

After we finished off the first floor, we moved up the carpeted stairway with the polished-wood banister. I learned how each bedroom for the boys and girls would be set-up. With the master bathroom, not only did I hear about the carpet color, but I also learned about the two paintings that would be on the wall. The tour completed after walking through the virtual basement and then going outside to see the wall color and garden.

Once she was done, I asked where this house would be. “Pennsylvania.” I then thought I would throw another one out there. “What if your husband doesn’t like this house?” She went quiet for a moment.

“Well. We could re-plan the house so we both would like it.”

“That’s a nice idea,” I encouraged her.

“Except I wouldn’t change the kitchen, master bathroom, the dining room, or the master bathroom.” She paused. “Or the color of the outside. It has to be light blue…….and all the tile has to be water blue colors. Other than that, we could re-plan.”

By this point, we had completed our lap and were coming back into the driveway. She had done it. The weight of the day had been lifted. The fear of the future had been replaced with my planning to be sitting in her living room with a roaring fire in the future – celebrating Christmas with our daughter and her family – our grandchildren. She made me realize that tomorrow will come along with the day after that and the day after that.

Our little walk reminded me that there are dark days. They happen. One must face them, but no matter what life will continue to happen. I saw it today as I watched the people around me. I tried all day long to pull myself up by the bootstraps, but it wasn’t happening. Then a little 8 year-old did it by talking about her future. She reminded me of what I already knew, but she did it with talking about tiles and colors and patterns.

It is funny. God sends us what we need even when we forget to ask.

Thank you for meandering with me tonight.

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9/11 for an 8 year-old

Posted on September 11, 2016 by Bob Martin
honor By Janice Barchat

honor
By Janice Barchat

Today is September 11th, Patriot’s Day in United States. The memorials have happened, the songs have been sung, and the day has been remembered. For those 20 and older (though I would venture to say 25 and older), it means something. We can remember where we were when we first heard of the tragic events that played out that day. Some learned of it as they watched the morning shows, others heard about it from the radio, some learned of it as they unwittingly became part of the news. They were in the buildings, on the planes, or part of those who rushed in while others fought desperately to get out. Living on the West coast, I can still remember the phone ringing as a friend from Florida called to tell me to turn on the television.

I can remember going to work that day on empty freeways in the Los Angeles area. We stood in the conference room, work didn’t matter that day, watching the news. I can still see the receptionist coming in with a scared look on her face to tell me that a Captain from the Air Force was on hold; she needed to talk to me. I still remember how, for the next week, the skies were quiet and empty. Not a plane was in the sky unless it belonged to the military. I flew to Sacramento on the first day flights were allowed. People were tense, nervous, scared to be in the airports.

These images along with many others come flooding back into my mind every year as we approach this day. I understand how people felt during the late forties and early fifties when December 7th came up on the calendar. However, for me, growing up in the late 60s and 70s, that day was just a day when announcements were made in school. Flags would be flown, but it didn’t hold much for me emotionally. I now see that starting to take hold for our young people today when the conversation becomes about 9/11.

A senior in high school today would have been no more than 3 years-old when the twin towers were hit and our country was attacked. They know about the day because it has been kept alive by parents, educators, and the media. While there is film from the attack on Pearl Harbor, the amount of material available from 9/11 is immense. Students can live that moment time and time again. We are also still fighting wars because of that day – WWII came to an end four years later. They didn’t continue living it the way we are today. Just the same, most seniors today have no personal connection to that day. I say most since some students lost family members either on that day or due to the after effects. The younger children really don’t have an understanding of what happened and why on that day. This is where we are today with an 8 year-old. She hears about the day, but doesn’t understand. She has questions, but how much does a parent share without terrifying the child. Over the last week, we have talked.

When the questions are, “Daddy – why did they do that? What happened on that day?” they must be answered. In the past, the questions weren’t there. Today they are. How do you explain it?

I will state that we did visit Shanksville last month. Most of my wife’s family were with us as we walked the field. We looked at the names. We saw the spot. Then our daughter and I broke off from the group. There was a little room with activities for children. We stopped while the rest continued. This gave us a chance to talk and question. There were a few displays that made her sad to the point that we had to stop for a while. Unlike most of her classmates, she has seen physical items left behind from the crash. She has heard the voice messages left for loved ones. She has touched the ground and looked up at the sky and wondered. Just the same. The questions come. Here is how I explained 9/11.

9/11 is an important day for our country. Some bad things happened on that day that changed us. We want to remember events of that day for different reasons. Adults will talk about different things when talking about that day. Some will tell you how they learned of it. Others will talk about what they saw. Many can remember the fear that they had that more bad things were going to happen.

It had been a long time since people had been able to do something this big (I state this big without talking about the other attacks NYC had experienced prior) in our country. Most people thought that these things happened in other places, but not here. People wondered how this happened and if it could happen again.

As for what happened… there were some people who didn’t like our country. They didn’t like how we lived and how we did things in other countries. This group of people wanted to punish us and teach us a lesson. They felt that the best way to do this was to take some airplanes and fly them into buildings. They chose the buildings because they felt that those buildings meant a lot to us. You see the buildings in New York were two tall buildings that people all around the world knew. They also chose a building in Washington where our Army, Air Force, Navy, Marines, and Coast Guard worked. Finally, we believe they wanted to use a plane to destroy our Capitol. (I use our Capitol since she has toured the building and knows that it belongs to the people) The bad people felt that by destroying these buildings it would show that they were stronger than us.

The people worked with others from other countries to make this happen. They planned for a long time. They wanted to scare us and tell the world that the United States was weak. They were able to take control of four planes. Three of the planes flew into the buildings. The fourth plane was stopped because the people on the plane found out what was going on and worked together to stop the bad people. Those people were determined not to let another building be hit. While they died fighting the bad guys, they saved so many people.

We have seen the videos of what happened to the buildings. You saw how they fell down. You know that many people died trying to get out of the buildings or in the airplanes. That was a sad day for those people, their families, and all of us in this country. But that is not what I want you to think about when you hear of 9/11. I want you to know about what happened after…

When those planes hit the three buildings, it scared everyone inside. It scared everyone around. It scared the world. But, just the same, it did not stop people from doing what they do. During that day so many firemen, firewomen, and police officers went running to help. Those men and women knew that the buildings were on fire. They knew that parts of the buildings were already falling down, but they knew that people were in danger. They knew that mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers of other people were in those buildings and needed their help. They stepped up and went in to save as many people as they could. They did not stop and think that it was too dangerous or scary. They knew that they were putting themselves in danger and still went in. Many of those men and women did not come out that day.

The whole country came to a stop that day. We didn’t worry about sports and which team was winning or losing. We didn’t worry about movies and singers. We came together as a country that day. The color of skin didn’t matter, whether you were a man or woman meant nothing, none of the stuff that people argue about every day mattered. What mattered was that we were one country that day. People came together and talked and checked on each other. For a while, we became a stronger country because we worked to discover what we could do for one another as a people.

I still remember a commercial that came out a week later telling about how the bad people wanted to change our country. At the start of the commercial, it showed a tree lined street. The words about their want to change us came across the screen. They disappeared and the words, They did! came across. You saw the same street, but every house now flew a flag.

The thing that I want you (our daughter) and your friends to know about 9/11 is that we can be one country.

Yes. Bad people did bad things.

Yes. People will try to do things to us again.

No. we do not know when they will try, but no that there are many men and women working every day to stop as many of them as possible.

No. You should not be afraid. You need to live your life. Go after those dreams that you have. When you stop living because you are afraid – well that is when the bad people win. Don’t let them control your life.

No. We are not the same people we were on those days. While people will not forget what happened and how they felt, normal life has pushed those feelings aside.

Yes. Those brave men and women are still around us each and every day. They will still go running into the buildings when others are running out. They will give their own lives to help others continue living. They deserve to be remembered each year, each month, each day, each hour, each minute, and each second. You or some of your friends may choose to become one of those people.

Finally, I would tell them not to forget 9/11. This was a day that changed our country. We learned that bad people can hurt us, but when the people of this country stand together – we can survive and be strong.

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