Happy Fourth of July!

By Michael J.W. Stickings

Slow posting today -- actually, nothing up before this. What can I say, it was a long holiday weekend (Canada on Friday, the U.S. today), summer is in full swing, at least up in my part of the world, and it's been a busy time for me on a number of fronts.

But allow me, late this evening, to wish all of you Americans out there (and I'm part-American myself) a belated Happy Fourth of July.

I hope you've had a wonderful day filled with family and friends, baseball and BBQ.

Now let the blogging resume...

But not before posting this clip from one of the best worst movies of all time, a movie so terrible it's not just good but actually rewatchable (as I often do when I come across it on the teevee), a movie with one of the most laughable inspirational/patriotic/jingoistic speeches ever.

Yes, on this Fourth of July, let's watch some Independence Day!

Canada Day 2011

By Michael J.W. Stickings

Happy Birthday, Canada!!!

We're 144 years old today.

To all my Canadian friends and family, have a safe and happy day. And to everyone else, to all of you from around the world, take a bit of time today to think of us. This is pretty wonderful country.

I posted this clip three years ago, and last year, and I'll post it again. It's one of the most stirring renditions of our national anthem I've ever heard, sung by the fans at Edmonton's Rexall Place before Game 3 of the NHL Western Conference playoff series between the Oilers and the Anaheim Ducks on May 23, 2006 (the Oilers won the series in five games before losing to the Carolina Hurricanes in the finals, 4-3).

Photo of the Day: Memorial Day 2011 - Stony Point, New York

By Richard K. Barry

 

This picture appeared in The New York Times yesterday. It's a fairly ordinary shot depicting an older veteran and a young boy at a Memorial Day celebration. It could be anywhere, but it happens to be in my home town of Stony Point, New York. I grew up in the area. I still have family there, though I have lived mostly in other places for the past 30 years.

According to the Times caption, the older gentleman is Arnold Rist, who is 86 years old. The youngster is Thomas Cahill, age 3. On Monday, Mr Rist played taps, as, the caption states, he has done hundreds of times at military funerals. In April 1945, it says that he was among the soldiers who liberated the inmates of Dachau concentration camp.

My sister sent the picture and she and I were trying to figure out where it was taken. We are pretty sure it's at the Stony Point Town Hall because that's where the local parades ended when she and I marched in them as part of our high school band when we took part in the annual celebrations many, many years ago.

I mention all of this, in part, because I marvel at how the political right so aggressively claims patriotism for themselves as if those of us on the left couldn't possibly understand what pride in community and the sacrifice of others means. They like to paint all of their political opponents as radically different and therefore wrong about everything.

I do hate to disappoint people like that, but I grew up in a small town. I've worked hard to understand the history, culture, and politics of my country. I take pride in what is good and criticize passionately what needs work, which is not a bad definition of patriotism from my point of view.

If you want to disagree with me, do it on the facts and not on some bogus claim that you are more American than I am simply because you think you are, as you wrap yourself in the flag and refuse to listen to any other voice but your own.

I hope everyone had a great Memorial Day and remembered to remember the sacrifices made by people like Mr. Rist and so many others.

(Cross-posted to Lippmann's Ghost.)

Victoria Day 2011

By Michael J.W. Stickings

May 2-4!

Happy long weekend, fellow Canadians. This is one time when I'll thank the British Monarchy for doing some good.

Not that this is really their doing, of course, just Queen Victoria's birthday, but I'll happily take the day off anyway (while continuing to advocate the abolition of the monarchy here in Canada).

Keep checking in, though. While it's the unofficial start of summer, and while the weather here in Toronto is, at long last, beautiful today, I'll be posting from time to time over the long weekend, and I'm sure we'll have some new content up from my great co-bloggers as well.

-- Michael

Sisters

“Children of the same family, the same blood, with the same first associations and habits, have some means of enjoyment in their power, which no subsequent connections can supply...” ~Jane Austen, Mansfield Park, 1814

Recently I hugged a young woman at the funeral of her only sibling, a handsome sixteen year old cut down in the very prime of life. It was one of those funerals you hate to go to but you know you can’t miss. I hugged her harder and longer than I usually hug anyone. I told her about losing my only brother eighteen years ago when he was only 29. Although it wasn’t the same, it was the most devastating loss I’d ever experienced; I know what it is to lose a brother.

She asked me one question, “Was he your only sibling?” No, I had to admit honestly. He was my only brother, but I still have two sisters.

She was now an only child. I was wealthy by comparison.

Funny how difficult it is to see one’s family as a ‘treasure’ when you’re growing up; then siblings are rivals for finite resources, such as mom’s time, the favorite chair, or extra food, etc. Still I do remember a few lights shining through the fog where I saw—really saw—what a wonderful thing it is to have other souls who share the same parents and similar childhood memories.

But something that I value even more than the collective conscious is the sense of belonging that I share with my sisters. When we were younger we had our rivalries and jealousies. Especially intense were our competitions over grades and scholastic achievements. Both of my sisters made higher grades than I did and earned more awards and scholarships—much to my chagrin.

However, my one sister who never married struggled to overcome her own desires for family life and children. And my other sister who has two autistic sons had to learn not to blame herself for the boys’ disabilities. Both sisters suspected my life a little bit too perfect until our girls became teenagers and I recounted some of the trials inherent in mothering young women today. Is anyone’s life without bumps, pitfalls and obstacles? Isn’t it the challenges we face which make us who we are? Doesn’t character develop over the long term?

“Sisters is probably the most competitive relationship within the family, but once the sisters are grown, it becomes the strongest relationship.” ~Margaret Mead

We just returned from a wonderful visit home where I was able to see both sisters and the rest of our family. The days of petty childhood differences are long gone. My single sister babysits for our autistic nephews. My youngest sister, Julie opened her beautiful home to us for the holiday and even waited up for us when we arrived late Tuesday night. My family is on one schedule due to college age kids; her family is on another time clock due to her boys’ special needs, but we worked it out.

Both of my sisters are amazing women. Patti recently finished her Masters in Pastoral Administration. She’s also a Master Gardener and she does triathlons. Julie has decorated her entire home herself—done the painting, wallpaper, curtains, made quilts and pillows for her son’s beds, does scrapbooking and lately has taken up miniatures as well! Pictured at the top is her entry for an upcoming competition. Hasn’t she done a nice job on this Jewelry Boutique?! I couldn't be more proud of my sisters' accomplishments if I'd actually done all of those things myself. I love them immeasurably. They are my dearest friends.

God bless you both!

We had a wonderful Thanksgiving. It was our best visit ‘home’ ever!

Thanks to everyone! We love you all so much!

“Bless you, my darling, and remember you are always in the heart - oh tucked so close there is no chance of escape - of your sister.” ~Katherine Mansfield

changing pictures, passing time

One of the hardest things in the world for me to do is change out my children’s pictures. You know what I mean? When you receive the new photos which undeniably reveal they’ve grown another foot, or moved from one stage into another, you can no longer pretend time isn’t passing. Our children – and especially their annual pictures – present us with regular reminders that life is moving in one direction … and it isn’t backwards.

We’re getting ready today to leave for a Christmas trip to visit my family in St. Louis. There’s laundry, packing and a million things to prepare. The cat sleeping in my lap doesn’t know he’s about to be left behind again. Among the many things we’re bringing with us are photos of our daughters. So it seemed as good a time as any to change out some very old 8x10 pictures of the girls – dating back from when they were still in grade school – which have sat atop our living room wall unit all these years. My sister constantly teases me for leaving up old pictures of the kids. Good mother that she is, she faithfully and promptly trades out the new for old pictures of her children every year. She’s even one of those super moms who does scrapbooking and has books from present all the way back to when her oldest was born!

Not me. I started out with the best intentions, but Air Force moves, health problems, homeschooling and probably (mostly!) my own distracted, lazy personality redirected my efforts down other avenues. Or maybe it’s just that I can take the pictures of my girls but then I can’t bring myself to look at them again later. Even the ones hanging on my walls are just there. It isn’t often I really look at them.

Maybe that’s why I procrastinate updating old pictures – I don’t like to be reminded that my babies are growing up.

Today, however, it was different.

Recently I had the opportunity to visit a single person’s home. And this wasn’t just a nice place, it was a really, really nice house. It was in fact lovely: gorgeously decorated, everything new and in pristine order, like a house out of magazine. Every room was a work of art; overall, an exquisite creation of beauty and perfection, a joy to behold.

I felt sad when I left there. When I thought about my own house, I confess to more than a twinge of envy.

Well for one thing, ours is a home and it’s very lived-in. The other night my husband was working hard to get bright pink (fuchsia!) nail polish out of the living room carpet. Our daughters know they are supposed to paint their toes in the bathroom but . . . well, when you live with teenagers, you cohabit with chaos. Does that tell you anything for starters?

Moving on... most of our carpets are at least sixteen years old and they look it. The furniture is that old too, or older. Books spill off the bookshelves and there are baskets of craft projects all over the house; the girls and I love to crochet, weave, bead, draw, etc. Right now my daughter’s miniature origami nativity sets line the kitchen counter. Folded clothes cover table tops and the ironing board is set up in the living room in front of the Christmas tree. My husband and I are giving each other a new hot water heater this year for Christmas . . . and considering ourselves very blessed to be able to afford to do so. It’s certainly a lived-in home. We have many happy memories shared under the roof of this messy, old, lived-in home.

As I mentioned above, I didn’t mind so much changing out the girls’ pictures today. Yes, they are older and so am I. Yes, our home is shabbier and so am I. But I wouldn’t trade my well-worn home or self or my life with Bear and our daughters for the plushest mansion anywhere.

The girls' new pictures look very nice by the way.

From our not-so-fancy home to yours, have a very Blessed Christmas and New Year!

Merry Christmas 2008

My incredible second Mom and Dad are visiting from Indiana for the holidays. Here we are as a family on Christmas Eve just home from Mass. Say a prayer we can convince Sandy and Jude to stay through the 2nd. We're having such a nice visit!

God bless you and yours!

love,

Advent Angel

Rooftop 'angel' visits Kentucky couple . . . Well why not? It is Advent! Read about it here. Have a Blessed Advent!

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Happy Thanksgiving!

From
our table

to yours:

Have a blessed Thanksgiving!

Great Idea!

This is a GREAT IDEA! I hope you agree!!

When doing your Christmas cards this year, take just one card and send it to this address. If we pass this on and everyone sends just one card, think of how many cards these men and women would get.

These are wonderful special people who have sacrificed so much. What a nice surprise it would be.

When you are making out your Christmas card list this year, please include one card to the following:

A Recovering American Soldier
c/o Walter Reed Army Medical Center
6900 Georgia Avenue, NW
Washington, D.C. 20307-5001

God bless you for your generosity to our military heroes!

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A Vet's Reflections

When they ask the veterans to stand in church – and other public places – I never like to. My children give me a hard time about this. “You’re a vet too, Mom. Why don’t you stand up? You aren’t ashamed of it, are you?” On the contrary, I think serving our country is one of the finest things a person can do, but like James Bradley in Flags of Our Fathers, I don’t think I did anything special. Except of course that he really did do something special and I, on the other hand, know that I didn’t. I just did my job and for that I received a paycheck. It was a simple economic exchange, just like any other job.

But is that true?

Do I really know that? And is any job, just ‘a job’? Isn’t everything we do, how we do it, far more than what we do?

One of the first things I learned as a young lieutenant is that I rarely got recognized, much less noticed, the times I went all out, but I sometimes received awards and notice when I hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary. I suppose that knowledge could have made me cynical, but I decided to look at it pragmatically, figuring there is some sort of rough justice in it all and we don’t work for awards anyway. We work for the certain knowledge it’s the right thing to do. We work for God . . . and country. In other words, we follow the first and second commandments.

I had the distinct pleasure of serving my country from 1979 through 1991, through the Cold War, Desert Shield and Desert Storm. I spent nine of my thirteen years of active service overseas and while it was far from glamorous or glorious, I never dreamed how much I would miss it when it was all over. The camaraderie is like nothing you will ever find elsewhere, the opportunities to learn –and fail—are endless, as are the chances to try new things, go all over the world and yet truly find what you are made of inside. The military was the best choice I could have made right out of college and I have no regrets, except that I didn’t do more for my country. I was – am – far too selfish. I was told that I needed to “watch out for myself”, to protect myself from ‘the system’. Perhaps I did. But, God save us from an entire unit, squadron or more of individuals with that attitude.

Today my daughters’ school had a nice tribute to Veterans. The Junior R.O.T.C. stood in formation, the colors were brought in, some decorated Vets were given special honors and the choir sang a medley of the military service songs. And when the familiar words were sung, “Off we go, into the wild blue yonder…” I stood up. I can’t tell you how proud I am—of my country, and how blessed I know myself to be—to have served her in this small way. But mostly, I am grateful to all who have worn and continue to wear the United States military uniform.

God bless the men and women serving on active duty, their families and the country we are all blessed to live in!

Here are the first verses (and refrains where applicable) of each of the military services’ songs:

U.S. Air Force
Off we go, into the wild blue yonder,
Climbing high into the sun.
Here they come zooming to meet our thunder,
At 'em boys, give 'er the gun.
Down we dive, spouting our flame from under,
Off with one hell-uv-a roar!
We live in fame or go down in flame,
Nothing'll stop the U.S. Air Force.


U.S. Army
First to fight for the right,
And to build the nation's might.
And the Army goes rolling along.
Proud of all we have done,
Fighting until the battle's won.
And the Army goes rolling along.

Then it's Hi! Hi! Hey!
The Army is on its way,
Count off the cadence loud and strong
For where'er we go,
You will always know,
That the Army goes rolling along.


U.S. Coast Guard
From Aztec shore to Arctic zone,
To Europe and Far East.
The flag is carried by our ships,
In times of war and peace.
And never have we struck it yet,
In spite of foe-men's might,
Who cheered our crews and cheered again,
For showing how to fight.


U.S. Marine Corps
From the halls of Montezuma
To the shores of Tripoli
We will fight our country's battles
In the air, on land and sea.
First to fight for right and freedom,
And to keep our honor clean.
We are proud to claim the title of,
United States Marines.


U.S. Navy
Stand, Navy, out to sea, fight our battle cry;
We'll never change our course,
So vicious foe steer shy-y-y-y
Roll out the TNT, Anchors Aweigh. Sail on to victory
And sink their bones to Davy Jones, hooray!

Anchors Aweigh, my boys, Anchors Aweigh.
Farewell to college joys, we sail at break of day-ay-ay-ay.
Through our last night on shore, drink to the foam,
Until we meet once more. Here's wishing you a happy voyage home.

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Happy Easter!

Happy Easter from our house to yours!

Halleluia!

Jesus Christ has risen today !