Meditation Monday: On Praying for Others

I don't know if my idea for "Meditation Monday" will continue or if this is a one-time deal, but it's something I thought of earlier today while on the way to church, and something I'd like to try to continue as I go along. This is the spiritual focus I'll be working on this week. I hope you'll join me as we work towards a healthier spiritual life!

The Scene:

Sunday morning, getting scones together for the kids's breakfast and generally preparing for church. 

An ancient place to pray: The ruins of Melrose Abbey in Scotland

The Events:

• The general "stress" of making sure everything was ready to head out the door on time
• Keeping the food from burning
• The to-do list, coupled with being (roughly six-months) pregnant, and having a still-tired undressed toddler to take care of
• The blessings of older kids getting themselves ready without too much instruction from Mom. 

Such stress, as you can imagine, takes its toll sometimes. When the old dog peed all the way down the stairs (again!), and the stairs then needed to be steamed before we left, the irritation and anxiety led me to a difficult moment. I had to stop for a minute and just. breathe.

Visiting Arlington - ("Honor" - part III)

This is, as you can see, the 3rd part in a series of posts about my day helping with Honor Flight, to see the first post, start here. Otherwise, I invite you to read on as we visit Arlington Cemetery with our World War II veterans!

When last we met in post 2, the vets and their Guardians were finishing up an hour-and-a-half at the WWII Memorial. We were fighting off protesters ("Anti-Tea Party") as they moved in great waves through, by and around the Monument.... Sorry - I did promise that for a later, non-Honor Flight related post! We'll get to those protestors later on.

Several of the veterans had on ball caps, old uniform jackets (they still fit fifty years later. Impressive!), old uniform hats or rank patches from their days in the service. With my own three vets, I had the pleasure of a five-minute discussion about whether or not the Navy uniforms still have bell bottoms on the pants. They asked questions about what various medals and awards indicated on the uniforms; they were moved by the PBS documentary that was shown about the building of the Monument while we were on the buses.

One thing I didn't know about the WWII Monument, though it doesn't surprise me to find out, is that Kilroy is on the side of the Monument that faces the Lincoln Memorial. So I will definitely have to check that out next time I am down there!

At 1:30, we mustered back up at the buses to load up for Arlington Cemetery and the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldiers. We boarded the bus and the vets received their free boxed Arby's lunches (sandwich, chips, fruit cup and yet another ice cold water and home made cookies), and we were on our way. Our previously broken down bus had returned so we were glad to be rid of the five blue shuttles, though having them earlier in the day had been a blessing - the alternative was to miss the day altogether!

The original plan had been to see Iwo Jima first - in the end, I was grateful that we came back to it. When we circled around Iwo Jima, another Honor Flight group (there were three in town) was already there snapping pictures and seeing the sights. I'll get to why it was better to be last later on. For now, on to Arlington - finally!

When we reached Arlington, our bus/group leader gave us some of the history of the Cemetery and the buildings we saw around us. He told us a great story about General Lee, the way that his house was taken over and the fact that he was the great-, great- nephew of General Lee. He then told us, as Paul Harvey would say, "the rest of the story," but so as to avoid butchering a really well told, funny tale from his family history, I will encourage you to join the Honor Flight for their ride into the city so you can hear the story in full from his own mouth.

We drove on up and unloaded across the street from Audey Murphey's grave. We crossed the street to see the grave of the Most Decorated War Hero of WWII. After taking pictures of that, we headed over to see the Changing of the Guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldiers. First my vet, his name was Chuck, needed to use the restroom. As we had about fifteen minutes left, we decided we had plenty of time. The only problem was that the restroom was on the right side of the amphitheater while the most available space to view the guards was on the left. Once Chuck emerged, we decided we could speed-walk to the other side and settle in. We had just over five minutes to the ceremony. Chuck really wanted to make sure he was there to see it so boy did I walk fast with that wheelchair! Being pregnant with number five, and worried too about tripping the chair on an uneven bit of pavement, I didn't go so fast as to be running, but we moved quickly and made it just in time.

The guard marked off his steps - 21 in all - twice before his replacement appeared at the far end of the guard area. The replacement guard stood through his inspection and the Sergeant came to the front center of the steps and in a loud voice announced his name and the all should remain silent, respectful and standing during the duration of the ceremony to follow. My vet struggled to his feet and stood as long as he could, as did several others of our 80- and 90-year old companions. Though a few took pictures, our vets were all silent, many doffed their hats; they were respectful and, as always, the ceremony was intensely moving to watch.

Each step marked off, 21 in all, day in, day out - even during a hurricane several years ago, when the men were told that they could stand down if they wished. All elected to remain at their posts.

(I hope you'll continue on with me in part IV, but this seems the best place to end Part III... so I shall.)

"Honorable" Intentions (Part II)

This post is part two of my Saturday as an Honor Flight guardian. To see the first part, head over here... Then read on below!

During the bus ride down into the city, I sat next to a man who was 80. He had been married to his wife for 65 years! I was so impressed with that. He told me that he almost had cancelled his trip because his wife had reached for his hand in bed earlier that week and they held hands for a while, he said, just stroking each others' fingers, and the next morning, his daughter came to check in on them to find his wife had lapsed into a coma. In spite of that, he had come at his daughter's insistence and showed me a picture of Morgan's Surrender Sword (from the Civil War,) that he said he had dug up out of his yard. He told me other things as well, but he was a little difficult to hear at times because of the bus's engine being so loud.

We left off at the wonderful D.C. traffic jam in part one. I must say that those Honor Flight folks are right on the ball - once we broke through the main traffic jam, which was unavoidable, really, they managed to get National Park Police (Thanks, guys!) to come out and give us a police escort into the closed-off streets of D.C. so we could park right there next to the WWII Monument.

That part was fantastic and mighty helpful! Our "bus" (five replacement vans) alone held twelve wheelchair veterans that needed to be unloaded, gotten into their chairs, taken for latrine/head/bathroom calls and then to visit their monument. The crowds were unbelievable! We did get everyone unloaded (can I just say that I really was taken by how soft their hands were - like a newborn babies' hands) and headed for the bathrooms that were built alongside the WWII Monument. For once, I was glad to be on the girls' side! Normally the line out the door comes from the women's room, Saturday there were around 40 male veterans waiting for the men's facilities! We finally decided to speed things up a bit and did as the ladies do when the situation is reversed: we commandeered the women's room and siphoned some of the men that way. Trust me when I say that some of these guys looked about as uncomfortable as a pregnant woman waiting to go!

We did get some dirty looks from a few protesters who wanted into the ladies' room and whom we asked to wait. Meanwhile, to the side of the permanent restroom fixture, there were at least 30 port-a-potties that had been set up specifically for the protestors to use. I finally emerged from guarding the bathroom door until all of our men came out and it warmed my heart to hear three medics nearby (on hand in case of anyone getting hurt in the protests from heat exhaustion or whatever) ... discussing ... the protestors who had complained about our use of the ladies' room for the vets. Their take on it was that the port-a-potties were set up specifically for the protestors and that the vets who had fought in the war should have had every use of the restrooms that went with their monument. Made me smile.

My group had one Columbus guardian, myself, and three vets - one in a wheelchair, two walkers. When I got out of the restroom duty, they had disappeared. Crap. So I headed for the Monument itself to try to find them. What a mess! I will not ruin my commentary any more than needed talking about the behaviour of many of the protestors toward our veterans. That will be for a follow-on post that I have plans for. But suffice to say that finding my little group of four was going to be nearly impossible. So I grabbed a vet who had lost his group and we walked around the pool and he told me stories about the war, his wife and his garden back home. He was lovely to be with.

As we rounded off the circuit, we found his Columbus Guardian and he went back to his group. I remained behind, both looking for my group and helping "make a hole" (path) for the vets to move through the waves of protestors moving by. The man who started Honor Flight was on hand to help out and welcome the vets as well and they did have several tourists who stopped our men to ask for their pictures and shake hands. The men took group photos in front of the wall of stars, they shared their stories and laughed as they remembered the past. Some of the men even made mock passes at the ladies - they were mighty sweet. Mine gave me a kiss on my cheek and told me I was pretty. Flatterer.

More in part 3 - this part seems long enough for now! ....

A Matter of Honor... Part One

This last Saturday, I had the opportunity to help out in a program called Honor Flight. Regardless of where you are, I imagine there are ways to help, so it would be great of you to click the link above and check them out. This post is about my day with a wonderful group of World War II veterans coming to Washington, D.C., for a one-day trip from Columbus, Ohio.

I am going to start by saying that part of the reason I volunteered to do Honor Flight today was because I needed a good way to spend a Saturday and get away from some serious problems that I've been involved with in our church. The problems are out of my control, but no less worrisome and sad. This day was one of the best cures I could ever have experienced. I loved every minute of it and will definitely go help again - without waiting for a day when I need a distraction!

The day started out early, well, for a Saturday, anyway. I was supposed to be at the airport to "mingle" with the other "Guardians" who had worked with Honor Flight before, get questions answered, and get our passes to go past security to the gate. All of the people who were there to help the vets were called "Guardians.") I arrived a little early so that I could go to Subway and get a sandwich for my lunch. I could have paid $6 for a boxed lunch from Arby's, but that doesn't work so well for a vegetarian! As I stood there waiting in the Subway line, I was acutely aware of the time ticking by, making me late. One guy was texting, one guy was standing at the register, neither said a word to me! Finally, the guy texting stopped, and began to scrub vigorously on a cooker of some sort. I was pretty glad a few minutes later when the guy at the register was the one to come make my sandwich! (That's a side-rant. I add it in now to illustrate my hectic morning - there was so much more to the morning, but too detailed to put on one blog post!)

Once I joined up with the Honor Flight group, they checked off my name and gave me a pass to get past security. Honor Flight has been operating for about five years now and so have a pretty good working relationship with BWI by now. It made things much easier! They had already made arrangements for us to bypass the loooooong security lines and go through the section for employees and flight personnel. We still had to remove our shoes, etc., but it was still much faster that way.

Once we reached the gate (A-2 in our case,) we lined up with the uniformed military personnel who had come out from Ft. Meade positioned closest to the door where the vets would emerge from the plane. As they exited the plane, each one was cheered and applauded, hands were shaken all down the line and pictures were snapped. One vet in an old Navy hat, with a black ring around the top rim (a special designator, no longer in use, as I understand it,) wanted to have a picture with all of the Navy guys there.

Once we had all the men - and a few ladies! - off of the plane, with their escorts from Columbus, we headed out of the secure area to wait for our three buses, which would take us to Washington, D.C. There were protests going on in DC Saturday - an "Anti-Tea Party" rally and a gay pride parade, I believe, so I wondered how we were going to get these old boys close enough to the monuments that they would be able to walk the distance. I needn't have worried!

One bus broke down (the one for yours truly, of course!) so after some wrangling, we herded our guys with their Columbus Guardians onto five transport vans and headed off down I-295. We were going along at a pretty quick pace until we hit construction and Rally traffic just past I-495, which runs around the perimeter of Washington, D.C. Then we bogged down for about 20 or 25 minutes.

To keep these posts from getting overwhelmingly long (I know I tend to be wordy!) I'll break this into a couple of sections. I so enjoyed the day that I want to get in as much detail as I can - with hopes of encouraging others to join us next time!

Todd-Zilla

This is a repost of one of my FaceBook Notes. I have two other posts ready to go, but they need the pictures first - have to bake some cookies for those! In the meantime, here is one to lighten your day and remind all you moms-of-toddlers out there that we all have one of "those days" sometimes!

I know I cannot compare having my four children with those of my sister-in-law and brother (with 7,) my mother (6,) or my grandmother (10,) but with my "paltry" four, every day has the promise of adventure. On some of the most adventurous days, a sense of humor is an absolute requirement of parenthood.

On one day in particular, I needed to go grocery shopping. I left my two oldest children at home, where their pop was sleeping for work. They were instructed to get a couple of chores done before I returned. So instead of taking my two biggest shopping helpers, I took Bruiser and Buttercup, the two youngest. On the way to the store, about 25 minutes away (and yes, the prices are often worth the drive), Buttercup fell asleep (YAY!) She continued to sleep on my shoulder for the first fifteen minutes of grocery shopping ease.

Then... she woke up. Now (I thought) I have my hands free to get everything faster and can move more quickly. Nothing but a good thing, until the 5 yo spoke from somewhere around my mid-section, "I'm hungry."

Okay, we'll finish up and get a snack to eat on the way home. No sweat, right?

Special Mom Tip 1: don't leave your oldest helpers at home without bringing snacks along for the younger children. They WILL get hungry and shopping WILL take longer than normal!

In the produce section, the peaches were on sale, next to the not-so-cheap cherries. I drifted toward the peaches and as I finished bagging up a couple of pounds worth, I noticed my darling son's bulging cheeks, and guilty countenance. Commence Operation "Remove Cherry." I took the half-chewed cherry from his mouth (Warning: Only daring mothers should attempt to remove food from the mouth of a hungry 5 year old!), explained that eating produce that needs to be weighed to pay for it is stealing, and guiltily threw away the remaining portion.

Special Mom Tip 2: Keep an eye out for ways the oldest child available can help out. Even a five-year-old can be kept busy looking for the ripest peaches or run to get produce bags. Alternately, be prepared to push one of those monstrously heavy two-seater carts, but be warned: they come with problems of their own toward the end of the store!

A kind store employee happened to be cutting up peaches to give out as samples nearby. She gave one to the child and I accepted one for the toddler to refuse. Instead, Buttercup was pointing to the bag of *whole* peaches in the cart, saying, "Appo' Appo'" while I smeared peach juice on her mouth in an effort to show her that it-really-does-taste-good-and-you-DO-want-to-eat-it.

Thankfully, she got the message. Buttercup ate two pieces while Bruiser had three. So far, so good on the solo grocery front. As the peaches were nibbled away, I ran to the deli to get some special cheeses and hummus and then headed for the tomatoes and avocados. I got the avocados ice cream and turned to get the tomatoes - just in time to see Buttercup munching on one as if it were an "appo!" Take the tomato, put it in the bag with the rest and just keep moving.

Special Mom Tip 3: Most free samples are a good thing, even better when they're healthy, but keep wet-wipes handy!

While I fetched the onions, she was pulling bits and pieces, bags and boxes up out of the basket of the cart. Soon she found the feta from the deli and proceeded to pull the price stickers off (including the bit with the bar code!); over in the egg section, she took hold of the four bananas, bit into the skin of one and started peeling it open; freezer section: open the veggie-chicken patties and tear into them. What is this?! Todd-zilla??

We finally reached the last hurdle: Lobsters. Quick peek at the lobster tank should satisfy her, right? No. Three or four (or five?) minutes later, I pried her away from the tank to continue to the check out line, she screamed. Quick! Grab a cranberry drink on the fly, pop it open and shove it towards her - ahhh, blessed silence. In the check out line, the saga only continued as she tried to help put groceries on the moving belt, stood up in the basket seat to help and had someone come to "help" her sit back down (we're good, thanks,) and the bagger pointed out that the veggie-chicken patties were opened. (Yes, thank you, I'm aware.)

Meanwhile, older moms all through the store are giving me sympathetic nods and cheering remarks ("I've been there - keep it up!") while the men were giving wide berth as they worked to move around me in the confines of the aisles.

Final Special Mom Tip: When you think things are at their worst, remember that you're not the first to struggle through the store with younger children. Yours are not the loudest, the most ill-behaved, etc. and your perception of what is "bad" can always be corrected by the employees, who can tell you stories of other children that will make your hair stand on end. In the case where you think YOUR child is the hair-raiser, remember to laugh, whether or not you feel like it - in the end, it's a great story for later and if no one is dead or injured, life is going to continue on and all will be okay.

The coup de gras came when I took my own groceries to the car (I can arrange the groceries the way I like them!) I left the cart behind the car while I strapped Buttercup-turned-Todd-zilla into the seat. As I rounded the car, I noticed that my groceries had gone missing! The cart had turned about and headed back down the hill towards the store, groceries and all. I can only assume that the peaches didn't want to be next!