An Open Letter to the Military

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Posted on November 12, 2008

To all those who served in the military,

I am sorry that I used to overlook Veteran’s Day.

I apologize for being annoyed when I didn’t get mail because November 11th is a federal holiday. It doesn’t bother me anymore.

Or forgetting to fly our flag, it has been waving proudly on our porch since last night.

I wish I would have told more of you “thank you” a long time ago but I am now the mama of a Soldier and you deserved my appreciation before then.

Now I see your Veteran’s hats and your license plates and my heart is beginning to understand.

I notice the bumper stickers of parents of military service people and I want to jump out of my mini-van and tell them I am learning what this means.

My life and this day will never be the same.

Thank you for your sacrifice to defend our freedom.

God bless you for being away from your family, friends and the comforts of home.

For those birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, even just regular days when you are not surrounded by the people who love you, I am humbled whenever I consider what that must be like for you.

Thank you for being able to serve our country whether you like the president or voted for him. I didn’t realize that until my own child put it into perspective.

Thank you for going to places most of us would never want to live or visit.

I confess that I might have still remained ignorant about all these things if my son hadn’t joined the Army.

You have done your job for your country and all the people in it. Including those completely support your endeavors and those who scoff at your service, those who would never have the courage to give everything up for a cause greater than themselves.

Until my own son made an oath to serve his country and I saw him in his uniform,

I was naive.

But not anymore, and that is a good thing,

I just needed to tell you this from the bottom of my mama’s heart.

Thank you.

My Nasty Broken Foot

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Posted on September 15, 2008

I love being an American and love living in my country but today I wish I was in Korea.
I have a friend whose husband has been deployed to Korea and if I could scoot on over to see her, I’d do it. Yeah, my leg would be tired but it would be worth it. Why? Korea has nibble fish.

Nibble fish are tropical fish that can feed themselves on the dead cells on the human body. It’s been five weeks since I broke my foot and over a month that I have been wearing a fiberglass cast on my left foot. Without completely grossing you out, let me just say that if I could plunge this foot into a pool of nibble fish, they could absolutely gorge themselves. We’re talking a serious feast!

For most of my readers, you exfoliate freely. Your feet slough all the dead skin effortlessly. Technically you don’t need nibble fish. I trust in the Lord and His Word tells me to be content in all circumstances but my left foot is devoid of such luxury and you can’t even imagine how badly I would love me some nibble fish. My friend Gigi has been to one of these magic “fish spas” although it sounds pretty funky, the whole idea intrigues me.

My youngest nephew, Josiah turned one a few weeks ago and now I’m officially the only one in my entire family who can’t walk. There’s nothing worse than a baby show-off! I’m ready to get back on my feet, seriously!

Today I was wearing a pair of jeans that slightly flair on the bottom. I had just finished having lunch with a friend. We were enjoying our conversation when suddenly my pants get caught on one of the front wheels of my scooter. I bumbled forward, trying to catch my balance. It was a slow motion spectacle as I reached for the brick wall hoping not to go over my handle bars and onto the cement sidewalk. With only one good foot to use, I feared the worse. The woman I was with was a few paces ahead of me. She heard something and turned around for quite a sight. Poor Maria saw me biffing all over the place and she let our an expletive while trying to rescue me. By some miracle, I didn’t crash to the ground but I was very embarrassed. If I would have seen this happen to someone, I probably would have laughed so hard, my sweet tea would have been coming out of my nose.

I go to the doctor on Wednesday and I’m not sure what he’s going to say about the status of my foot. All I know is that the day this cast is removed, I’m going to do some serious celebrating. Nibble fish, my American foot needs you!

Three Little Words That Meant So Much

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Posted on September 1, 2008

Who’s that hot babe with the scooter? It’s me! HA! Who’s that hot guy next to her? That’s my son! GA!

Now that I’ve got that out of the way…

There are several sentences I have come to treasure as a mom.

1. I love you.

2. You look pretty.

and then this one, my oldest OS said this morning.

3. I need you.

Moms out there, you know what I mean. Now when my son said this it didn’t sound quite so mushy and the sentence was longer but the three words that resonated for me on Sunday morning were I need you.

My mama brain processed the other words but those three words transported right into my mama’s heart.

The reason my son made this statement is that apparently one morning at West Point, an upperclassman took one look at his robe and noticed that it was “jacked’ up. It isn’t good to be “jacked” up in general but especially at the United States Military Academy. When my boy came home this weekend, he asked me if I could make the necessary repairs. “Mom, could you sew my robe? I need you to fix it for me, please.”

After he requested my assistance, I asked him, “What did you say?” My son seemed confused by my question, so I tried again. “Nate, what were those three words you used just a minute ago?”

He just stood there oblivious to my persistent interrogation but not willing to give up, I prompted him some more. “Nate, you asked me to do something. Why did you ask me to do something??? Work with me, Son!”

Finally he got it. “I need you.”

It’s different when you’re a mom of little ones who constantly demand every bit of your attention. That season of life is gone for me. But when your 18 year old son says something even remotely like “I need you” a smart mama jumps at the chance.

At West Point, I can’t be with him to do his push-ups. I can’t help him with Knowledge. I can’t tell the people who yell at my son to please use kind words instead (HA!) The truth is there is very little I can do but love my son, support his choices and every now and then, with dwindling regularity, do something no one else can do. In this case, it was to fix his robe.

I took out my brand new Brother sewing machine (ain’t she a beauty?) and got busy. I fixed the collar and reinforced the stitching.

I took the front pocket 2/3 of the way off to sew on a patch. I mended a teeny part of the sleeve and then turned my stitching dial to 64 and added a little mama touch.

I sewed a very tiny row of hearts on one of the cuffs. No one else will see them but I couldn’t resist. I don’t have too many opportunities to sew hearts on things as a mother of three sons. I had to “carpe diem” as my OS would say.

There might come a time at West Point when he needs to remember that little tiny row of hearts or maybe I just did it for me. I don’t know and it really doesn’t matter. Nathan boards a plane early Monday morning and I will surely miss feeling needed by my precious Soldier and loving son. Hopefully he will have more mending on his next visit!

I need you too, Nathan.

Thanks for making me feel significant with three simple words.

Officer Christian Fellowship an oasis for a new cadet at West Point

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Posted on July 24, 2008

Yesterday we received two letters from our son and as you can imagine, it soothes my heart to hear from him.

One of the few things my son is doing which do not produce anxiety in my heart is Officers’ Christian Fellowship and for that I say “amen!”

On Wednesday nights, my son and interested NCs have a first name (their very own!) and are allowed to even find a bit of a personality! What a privilege! Most other times, New Cadets are not afforded such luxury. You and I take these things for granted but you don’t if you are a lowly New Cadet.

A place of smiles and fellowship, being refreshed by the Word of God, fresh cookies and caring people. If I were a NC, I think I would live for Wednesday nights.

That’s also where you will find Barry and Barb Willey with Officers’ Christian Fellowship. Each summer in Wednesday, they join the chaplains and after worship time, the cadets get free time to relax, eat sweets and drink sodas.

Then they can get in a line and the Willey’s take a head shot of the New Cadet along with anyone else they want and then Barb sends the pictures to anyone they choose. What a treat! This is a wonderful ministry at West Point and it’s great that Nate has plugged into the community. Today we received a picture of our son from Barb. It was the first thing I looked for in my email box this morning.

Nate is smiling!

He looks happy!

He has friends!

I am overjoyed!

Last night apparently my son sought Barb out and made sure he got a picture. He even asked for his buddies to be in the picture which makes me want to cry, (I’m tearing up right now). I am so thankful for the Willey’s. I love their servants’ hearts, they are reaching out not only to the cadets and New Cadets but to their families. I am comforted knowing my son had a mama’s arms around him even if they weren’t my own.

According to Barb’s facebook, she was up until 4am downloading photos knowing eager parents would want to receive the photos. I can relate. Although I wasn’t up until 4am, last night I received a late night email from a student needing a “word of faith.” She was hurting and needed some encouragement. I wrote her back immediately because she needed to know someone cared.

Isn’t that what we all want? To know someone cares? I sure do! In a letter from our son, Nate wrote about how Colonel Cook’s sermon on Psalm 121 was so applicable. “I will lift my eyes to the hills, from whence comes my help?” He said, “it’s pretty cool when you’re at Trophy Point and you have hills surrounding you.”

Nate will always have beautiful memories of how God’s Word was so alive during his time at West Point.

The Lord is caring and providing for our son, he feels God’s presence in this place.

Maybe not when the cadre are screaming at him but he is finding a peace that passes understanding. God always cares, always understands, is 100% dependable.

Today I lift my eyes and hands up to the Lord and offer a word of blessing upon friendships, old and new, near and far and the body of Christ working together for His glory and kingdom.

Update: Now, five years later, my oldest olive shoot, Nate knows even more intimately how the Lord and His Word can speak to a Soldier’s spirit. During his recent journey through Ranger School, Nate found God’s Word just as relevant and life-giving. I just love what he wrote on the inside of his cap!

Click Officers’ Christian Fellowship for more info about OCF and check out this facebook page OCF at UMSA!

Ten reasons why it’s better to be a dorky 6th grader than a plebe

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Posted on July 15, 2008

1. You are a higher form of life. There is nothing lower than a plebe (well, almost). Note chart.

2. You can enjoy unlimited chews. No one is counting your bites. You can even swirl food around in your mouth and it’s all good.

3. You can sass at your superiors (although still highly dis- couraged) and not have to do push-ups. You may suffer other unpleasant consequences but not push-ups.

4. You can also pass gas and not have to tell everyone or make noxious fume hand signals in the air to everyone around you.

5. You have a first name and you have heard it said in the last 24 hours.

6. You can say “Hey!” “How’s it going?” “Hello, my friend!” or even make up your own salutation. These are just a sample of myriad greetings available to you as a dorky 6th grader!

7. Your bed can be slightly messy and you can sleep under the covers.

8. You do not have to memorize your mama’s dinner menu six days in advance.

9. You enjoy unlimited time for bodily functions! Woohoo!

10. You shower alone.

Four reasons it’s better to be a plebe than a dorky 6th grader

1. Cool uniforms with your name on them.

2. Better fireworks.

3. Honor, duty, country.

4. Huah. If you need a translation, you just don’t get it.

So which one is your personal favorite? Which one would be the most challenging for you???

Oh happy day – letters after R-Day

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Posted on July 9, 2008

On July 9, 2007 while just exiting a restroom in Lima, Peru, I got mugged. My pricey camera was pulled off my shoulders and back and that was probably one of the most startling events of my life.

Fast forward a year, I’m back home and this July 9 is joyous. Yeah, we have a stomach virus wreaking havoc on our family but it’s all good.

Our son wrote us!

In our mailbox, I discovered not one, not two, not three but FOUR letters from our boy!

There are not enough exclamation points to describe how I feel to read his words and glean his personality. Here are just a few and I’ll try not to be obnoxious!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I count it a privilege that our NC (military word for New Cadet) took the precious time to write.

Some parents have yet to hear from their child and I feel for them deeply. I do not take it for granted we have these paper treasures from our soldier and will guard them close to my heart forever.

As we gathered around the family room to read his letters, I thought to myself that this is what it used to be like before email, AIM and facebook.

Writing letters is a forgotten art and in some way, I have enjoyed putting pen to paper. I’m a writer so it comes fairly naturally but my two remaining OS certainly aren’t but what sweet messages have poured from their fingers. Aaron sends funny drawings, Ike sends Scripture.

Aaron writes about the day’s happenings.

Ike shares that he has thrown up.

My DH dashed another letter out to Nathan as soon as he read Nate’s messages. They are so beautiful, I have no choice but to weep.

Without violating his privacy, I think some of you would enjoy knowing a few details but let me tell you the latest on the toe.

Although still purple, his big toe feels much better since he got it drained. Getting a toe drained doesn’t sound like fun but I’m relieved to know he’s ok. I wrote him that he had so many prayers that not only should that toe be healed in Jesus’ name but quite possibly he might have grown a third big toe as a spare!

Please keep praying not only for our family but for the other cadet families out there eagerly awaiting news from their NC.

It’s tough when no news comes your way.

In a few days, we anticipate phone calls and I can’t wait to hear his voice. Major props to my homeslice Beth Anne who documented the first few moments when the letters arrived, love you, BA!

Getting letters from your son is better than getting mugged in South America, that’s a fact, Jack! HUAH big time!

Romans 12:15 “Rejoice with those who rejoice, mourn with those who mourn.”

Head to toe prayers

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Posted on July 5, 2008

The United States Military Academy requires its cadets to send a letter out to parents within the first few days of Beast (Cadet Basic Training).

Today we were overjoyed to get a coveted letter from our son.

We haven’t been able to talk to Nate since our farewells. Apparently next week we will get a 10 minute call from him. I will be sitting by the phone on the specified days and potential times until I get to hear his voice.

In the meantime, a one-page handwritten letter will suffice. In the letter, Nate indicated he had a tough day and received a lot of “personal attention.” One thing you don’t want at West Point is “personal attention.” The mom in me wants to make the 12 hour trek in my mini-van and just pick up my boy but that’s not what he wants or needs. He will prove it to himself that he can do all things through Christ who strengthens him.

What Nathan needs is prayer.

Specifically for his big toe.

He smashed it a few days ago and it has turned purple. This might seem like a strange prayer request but for a new cadet going through Beast (Basic Cadet Training), it’s a huge deal.

I cut my big toe on my honeymoon in Portugal, and trust me, big toes are very useful.

For the remainder of my honeymoon in Portugal and Spain, I walked around with stitches on the bottom of my big toe. That’s when I learned the value of phalanges.

My son is learning the truth behind God’s Word found in Psalm 139:14 “I am fearfully and wonderfully made.” He needs his big toes and probably will never take them for granted again.

If you read this post, please lift my boy, head to toe, inside and out, body and spirit up to the Lord along with all the other cadets.

Feeling better – mama of a soldier presses on…

34 Comments

Posted on July 2, 2008

We are currently experiencing a drought in our part of the country and if I had collected my tears in some type of container, (an incredibly large container), I think I personally could have solved the problem two days ago.

Today is a better day although it was quite painful walking into the house and past my son’s room.

This picture is of the two OS and me while still at West Point featuring four items of USMA gear along with the jade necklace my friend whose husband is serving in Korea.

The last thing I want to be is maudlin so I’m concentrating on good things.

I don’t even like the the word maudlin, therefore I’m trying my best to not be characterized as such.

Instead, I’m going the other extreme by wearing

– my West Point Mom Class of 2012 t-shirt with
– my West Point Class of 2012 matching canvas bag
– while driving my mini-van with the Proud Parent of West Point Class of 2012 bumper sticker
and reading Absolutely American (an amazing West Point book, highly recommend) and sporting my West Point Class of 2012 baseball cap.

My husband has –

– a West Point Parent license plate holder

– a West Point Dad Class of 2012 t-shirt

– a West Point golf shirt

– an Army baseball cap and

– a Proud Parent to be a West Point Cadet’s Parent bumper sticker
along with an Army lapel pin.

Can you notice a theme here? Does it seem just a little over the top? Who cares!

In some way, it connects us. I might wash my West Point Mom shirt in a couple of days if it starts to stink but I will stay in the laundry room and put it on as soon as it comes out of the dryer. Do you think I’m kidding!? I’m not!

Despite hundreds of miles that separate us, I am tethered to my child by these small efforts.

Since I like to sew, earlier this spring, I made Isaac a pair of camo-boxer shorts and a camo-pillow case.

My nephew Josiah now has a camo-bib. I also sewed a camo-apron.

Suddenly my favorite colors are either red, white and blue or black, grey and gold. I can’t be there with him while he is learning “knowledge” or doing push-ups or making his bed with incredible speed and execution so in spirit, this is my mama’s way of showing support.

He doesn’t know it but I do and it makes me feel better = less tears.

I cried so much on Monday that I had salt deposits under my eyes.

My two OS said, “Mom you have this white stuff under your eyes.” I went to the restroom at West Point and it wasn’t Kleenex, it wasn’t makeup, it was dried up tears. Yeah, it was that bad.

While at the Panera Bread line today, wearing my West Point Mom Class of 2012 t-shirt, a man approached me and said that he used to attend the Sunday night concerts up there by the tip of the Hudson River. I saw that place just a few days ago and it brought me a measure of joy. I felt connected and held back the floodgates.

During this time of transition though I have to share this with you.

I haven’t been able to collect my tears and find a useful purpose for them but someone has.

It is God.

Scripture says in Psalm 56:8 “You number and record my wanderings; put my tears into Your bottle–are they not in Your book?”

I can’t tell you how many times I have clung to that truth. If you know people who are hurting, sad or lonely, share that timeless message with them. God is recording their tears in His bottle, on His scroll.

They matter to Him. And if you see me, for goodness sake, please compliment me on my new USMA fashions, it will help this mama of a soldier!

Go Army, Beat Navy!

Check out how things are going as we now await “the phone call” and a silly way we included our NC into a little family fun!

Link to a newscast about R-Day at West Point, I wouldn’t have lasted 10 minutes!

Btw, I love all your comments and stories and want to put them in a future post. They are inspiring even to non-military folks! Keep ’em coming!

R-Day, 60 seconds

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Posted on June 30, 2008

“You have 60 seconds to say your farewells,” a member of the cadre announced as we all stood and prepared for our goodbyes.

A petite framed cadet whom I really wanted to hate was just doing her job. I don’t envy her of having the task of separating parent and family from child.

It was like every sentence she was saying felt like a Peanuts cartoon where Snoopy just hears, “blah, blah, blah, blah.”

Of course all of us knew it was coming, the mood was solemn as we all filed in and took our seats. I wasn’t the only weepy mom in the bunch so I felt a kindred spirit among us.

Oh I held him so tight. Be strong, be strong, I tried to remind myself.

There was such a feeling of love and pride, but we all entered into some private, intimate place in our hearts and hugged our babies for the final time for a long while like we were the only ones in the place. Nate grabbed his meager belongings and confidently strode to the front of the auditorium and never looked back.

That was a good thing because if I had seen his face one more time, I would have taken it as a sign to rush forward to get him. I know he is divinely placed where the Lord wants him to be and this is perhaps the most unselfish thing I have ever done as a mother. We prayed and prayed for the Lord to put him where he was supposed to go. I cannot second guess my Heavenly Father. Saying goodbye and letting my beloved child set forth into a new life, I am filled with tears and pride, both never ending.

I remember child birth being very painful but this is really rough. I was in labor for four hours, and it hurt like crud and this process is much longer. West Point is such an austere and noble place, I am humbled to have a son who is in the class of 2012 and have the hat, t-shirt and matching handbag to prove it. I shall be wearing black, gold and gray for a really long time. There is a dignity and a respect I don’t recall seeing at other college campuses we visited. This is the right place for my son and I am thankful to have met a lot of nice guys Nathan will soon be calling friends. Take a look and click here at this link to see what his first day was like. OY!

We are all entering a new phase in our lives. After saying our farewells, there were two floors of vendors and organizations to greet us. Nearly ever booth had a box of Kleenex. It was reassuring to see that in the midst of all this decorum and granite, they had chiseled out a lot of compassion and concern.

We arrive home tomorrow and I do laundry which will include some of Nathan’s dirty clothes. It will be the saddest load of laundry I have ever done in my life thus far. I found the toe nail clippers he used before we dropped him off at West Point. They were in the hotel bathroom and yep, I cried.

The Hubs and I weren’t the only ones struggling.

Motherhood is not for the faint of heart. I am the mama of a soldier. I am the PROUD mama of a soldier. Go Army, Beat Navy, Huah!

Psalm 63:7- 8

For you have been my help, and in the shadow of Your wings I sing for joy.
My soul clings to You; Your right hand upholds me.

Leaving civilian life behind, becoming military parents

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Posted on June 26, 2008

We just ate our last lunch as a civilian family in our home. In about an hour, we will head out for West Point, first stopping at a special family’s house along the way which is sure to be a bloggable event.

We are becoming a military family, I guess. In true W-H fashion, we did not have a Norman Rockwell dinner or lunch where we were all sitting around the table, laughing and smiling with every bite, singing Kum-Bi-Yah.

I guess we are a really human family and my expectations might have been too high. I am disappointed but trying to not dwell on things not ending perfectly like I wanted.