Whose Watchful Eye

A Soldier’s Christmas Poem

~ written by a Marine stationed in Okinawa Japan

'Twas The Night Before Christmas,
He Lived All Alone,
In A One Bedroom House
Made Of Plaster And Stone.

I Had Come Down The Chimney
With Presents To Give,
And To See Just Who
In This Home Did Live.

I Looked All About,
A Strange Sight I Did See,
No Tinsel, No Presents,
Not Even A Tree.

No Stocking By Mantle,
Just Boots Filled With Sand,
On The Wall Hung Pictures
Of Far Distant Lands.

With Medals And Badges,
Awards Of All Kinds,
A Sober Thought Came Through My Mind.

For This House Was Different,
It Was Dark And Dreary,
I Found The Home Of A Soldier,
Once I Could See Clearly.

The Soldier Lay Sleeping,
Silent, Alone
Curled Up On The Floor
In This One Bedroom Home.

The Face Was So Gentle,
The Room In Such Disorder,
Not How I Pictured
A United States Soldier.

Was This The Hero
Of Whom I'd Just Read?
Curled Up On A Poncho,
The Floor For A Bed?

I Realized The Families
That I Saw This Night,
Owed Their Lives To These Soldiers
Who Were Willing To Fight.

Soon Round The World,
The Children Would Play,
And Grownups Would Celebrate
A Bright Christmas Day.

They All Enjoyed Freedom
Each Month Of The Year,
Because Of The Soldiers,
Like The One Lying Here.

I Couldn't Help Wonder
How Many Lay Alone,
On A Cold Christmas Eve
In A Land Far From Home.

The Very Thought
Brought A Tear To My Eye,
I Dropped To My Knees
And Started To Cry.

The Soldier Awakened
And I Heard A Rough Voice,
"Santa Don't Cry,
This Life Is My Choice;

I Fight For Freedom,
I Don't Ask For More,
My Life Is My God,
My Country, My Corps."

The Soldier Rolled Over
And Drifted To Sleep,
I Couldn't Control It,
I Continued To Weep.

I Kept Watch For Hours,
So Silent And Still
And We Both Shivered
From The Cold Night's Chill.

I Didn't Want To Leave
On That Cold, Dark, Night,
This Guardian Of Honor
So Willing To Fight.

Then The Soldier Rolled Over,
With A Voice Soft And Pure,
Whispered, "Carry On Santa,
It's Christmas Day, All Is Secure."

One Look At My Watch,
And I Knew He Was Right.
"Merry Christmas My Friend,
And May God Bless You This Night."

 

msnbc

 

 The Seattle Times

Come home soon, safe, and successful.

Merry Christmas

I Re-Dedicate This Blog

Okay, so I'm back.

I've been gone.

I've been hurting.

My family has gone through some changes, and my daughter is not living with us.

It is what is best for her.

As for us, it has been a time of heartbreak as well as a time of relief.

I have a few dear friends -- and you know who you are -- who have been so loving and so supportive.  I truly do not know where I would be at this moment without them.

And there have been some disappointments.

Many people are unhappy with this change.

Many people have judged us harshly.

My son has lost not only a sister, but he has lost some of his extended family.

This hurts me beyond words.

So it has been a time of primal sadness,

and of deepest gratitude.

I see more clearly than ever whom I can count on, who loves me, and what love truly feels like.

I am here to testify to the importance of small gestures.

A note, a smile, a tender word, an understanding pause when there is nothing to say.

More valuable than gold.

It can save a life.

So as I find my way through this dark time in my life, I re-purpose this blog.

I now dedicate this blog to help soothe the souls of the walking wounded.

This will be a place, hopefully, of uplift, of reassurance, of kindness, of tenderness, a refuge.

I dedicate myself to finding, noticing, and sharing the kindnesses in life, the tender mercies, the light.

It seems to me, we could all use more of that just now.

So please bear with me as I find my new way.  I will not be talking so much about myself as I process and heal.  It is not for any other reason other than that where I am right now defies words, mine anyway.

I will be working to make this blog a provocation for more kindness and more tenderness and support in the world.

I want you to leave this blog happier than you came.  If not happier, perhaps more reassured or perhaps more content or perhaps just a bit more soothed and loved.

I have heard it said that you receive what you give . . . I know not where, perhaps in my own heart . . . so I send this blog out . . . setting such notion, sentiment, and intent in motion, free to find its way to those who need and, admittedly, in hopes of lifting up myself as well. 

I bid you peace, comfort, and friendship.

A Note of Thanks

I logged in this morning, to write something here,

And what to my wandering eye should appear?

One hundred dear followers and a happiness tear.

I give each of you my gratitude, my heart most sincere.

I Begin Again.

Last year at this time, I was sitting in a paper gown, answering questions, feeling my heart pound, and holding my husband's hand.  My surgery was scheduled for 11:30. 

My surgery went smoothly and I woke up in the recovery room, dreaming of my childhood basset hound, and missing my left adrenal gland. 

It had to go.  It had grown a mass.  It was kind enough to make it a benign mass, but it was creating extremely elevated cortisol (stress hormone) levels and jeopardizing my health and longevity. 

It has been a long year.  The offending adrenal gland had been so over-producing for so long that my remaining adrenal gland had stopped working.  Well, much like an under-paid, under-appreciated employee who suddenly receives double duty, the under-utilized adrenal gland does not rush back to production.  It took months for the stubborn little gland to come back to life, and, while I took enough cortisol in pill form to stay alive, a cortisol deficit is quite debilitating.  For months I felt fluish and weak and exhausted and cold.  Then I improved to just weak and exhausted and cold.  By the time I improved to just exhausted and cold, I was quite grateful.  I am now almost back to normal, but a normal I have not known in years, for that over-active adrenal gland has marred my idea of normal.

I still feel cold almost every minute, and tired is always right behind me like a shadow.  But I am better.  And I am alive.  And, I am told, I am healthy. 

Now to get my head to believe it.

I have spent so much time being sick, and then more time feeling sick, that now I don't seem to believe that I am no longer sick.  And so I apologize to all who are sick.  I know how lucky I am.  My condition was reversible.  It has been reversed, and I am all but totally recovered.  Now I just need to grab hold of life and live it again.  To begin again.  Without any grudges.

So here I go.  I am closing out the year of feeling unwell and monitoring every symptom.  Of not trusting my body.  Of focusing on its limitations and shortcomings.  I am going to trust my body now, enough to focus on living my life, and leave the day-to-day running of things to my body again which is healthy and is trustworthy and is strong.

I begin again.   

   

Thank you for listening.

Lucky Me

Look at the wonderful treasures I received from Red's Artist Cottage.  The wonders of One World One Heart continue . . . 


I was the lucky winner of this small original indigo watercolor painting:

 

It's just captivating.

I was also lucky enough to receive this small original watercolor of "coffee love":

 

It's so small and yet detailed, I really love it.

I feel really honored to have both these wonderful pieces.

Do yourself a favor and check out the stunningly beautiful work she does over at Red's Artist Cottage.  Not only is she wonderfully generous, but she is exquisitely talented. 

Why Winter Really is Lovely, Really, No Really

Where I live, it has been an especially harsh winter. Lots of snow, lots of gray, spirits are down; spring has never seemed so far away.

Rather than lament winter and its endless possibilities, whaddya say we make a list of all the good things about winter? Oh, c'mon, there are some good things. There are. There have to be. Now stop it.

Let's see:

1. Flattering wardrobe. Sweaters and slacks . . . even the whitest, flabbiest arms and dimpliest thighs can look good in a nice sweater and slacks. Boots will even make the best of thick ankles. Cold weather levels the playing field.

2. Static cling. Oh yes. It creates the most dynamic and creative hairstyles and provides endless teaching opportunities . . . if you're looking for lessons on electric static, and really, who isn't?

3. Quiet time.  All the time spent inside actually saves time. No obligatory small-talk conversations with neighbors you really have no interest in. Oh, you do too have one . . . or two.

4. No grass to cut. Be fair. That's a huge time-saver.  I don't care how much shoveling you've done this winter, you're still ahead of the game. 

5. Snowmen. The most polite and well-mannered and clean men around. And they know their place.  (C'mon "inside guys," you know you wanna laugh.)

6. Money.  With all the glove-wearing, you really don't need that manicure. Now you have extra money for salt for your driveway and walkways. Win-win.  See?

7. Endless freezer space.  Should your power go out -- as mine did during the last blizzard, that's right, it failed us when we needed it most and threatened the lives of my pets and the welfare of my children . . . but I'm over it now, almost, well almost, someday.  Anyway, the food in the 'fridge and freezer will not spoil, just hike it right outside where it will stay frozen. solid. indefinitely.

8. Socially Accepted Slovenliness.  You have perfect excuse for a filthy car. No peer pressure driving you to the car wash. Shew! Now that's a relief. Just don't lean on the thing or, gawd forbid, brush up against it as you're squeezing by it on the little space left on your driveway that is passable for all the waist-high snow. No, as long as you don't do that, your coat won't get ruined and your hands won't be black with road yuck. See? Simple.

9. Potholes. The sudden creation of crater-like potholes that threaten the entire health and happiness and, possibly, the mere existence of your vehicle makes driving so much more exhilarating. Who needs a Wii?

10. . .

Well, I'd like to have ten, a nice even number that subconsciously suggests abundance . . .

Let me think . . .

wait . . .

hmmmm . . .

hmph.

Well, I could list a tenth, if I wanted, but instead -- and on purpose, you smart-allecks -- I'm going to leave the tenth one blank to demonstrate that the list could just go on and on indefinitely. So there.


Feel free to add to my list, in an orderly and respectful fashion . . . no pushing or shoving, there will be enough time for all.

You Are My Sunshine

What sunshine is to flowers, 
smiles are to humanity. 

These are but trifles, to be sure; 
but, scattered along life's pathway, 
the good they do is inconceivable.   

Joseph Addison  

 

Just look at that flower. 

Isn't it beautiful?

  

I could get lost in it today.

Deepest thanks to Penny for sending me some sunshine today.

Go see her at The Hen House, it's always worth the time.

The truth is, I clutch it desperately today.

Today, give a stranger one of your smiles.  

It might be the only sunshine he sees all day.   

~ P.S. I Love You, compiled by H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

Allow me to pass some sunshine on to some other wonderful blogs:

Chicken Boys -- When I visit, I feel like I am at their house with my feet up having a great time with friends.

Delightfully Diva-ish -- She is wonderfully warm and wickedly funny. 

Laughing with Angels -- An exquisitely beautiful blog, and pure peaceful inspiration to me for more reasons than I can list.

The Lemon Cottage -- This is a fast-growing blog for good reason, she's brilliant and wonderfully fun, too.  She is also a tax preparer, so she is crazy-busy right now, so cut her a break until 4/15.  

The T-Cozy -- Going to her blog is like going over to a good girlfriend's house . . . the kind who makes good tea (the right way) and serves it with charm and warmth and her whole house is like a treasure trove of (mostly) vintage loveliness.

Those who bring sunshine to the lives of others cannot keep it from themselves.  

~ James Barrie

Thank you, Penny and my fellow bloggers, mentioned and unmentioned. 
 

 

Come Take a Magic Carpet Ride

Don't you think the world gets to feeling quite large and quite cold and quite lonely sometimes?  I sure do.  But, quite by accident, I came upon a wonderful antidote to that feeling this morning.

Lisa, A Whimsical Bohemian, artist, storyteller, and dreamer is the founder of One World, One Heart (OWOH).  OWOH begins today.  It is an annual event, now in its 4th year, wherein bloggers around the world mix and mingle and perhaps make a few new friends in corners yet unseen by them.  Such an inspiring concept.

I am very excited to participate in this worldwide blog-block party.  Beginning today, my door is open to guests far-flung geographically, philosophically, demographically, and even artistically.  I warmly invite you to come in, make yourself comfortable, and have a look around.  Visit.  Being the hostess, it is only customary I offer you some comfort or refreshment.  In that tradition, I offer you something made by my hand and with my heart.

I am a knitter, and I enjoy using luxury yarns when I can.  I recently knit this scarf for its luxurious softness and beautiful sheen.

This particular scarf now belongs to someone, but I will happily knit another for a new guest.  It may be a different color (depends on what looks good at my yarn shop), but it will be just as luxurious and wonderful.  (By the way, should a gentleman win, I will gladly reincarnate the scarf into a more masculine stitch, if you prefer.)  

Now, the way you become eligible to win this scarf is simple:

1.)  Visit this post --

2.)  Comment on this post BY Saturday, February 13, 2010, midnight EST -- so I know you came.  Make sure you comment in such a way that I can find my way to contacting you if you win.

That's all.  After all, you are my guest and it is my pleasure that you visited.  The winner will be chosen by random and announced on February 15, 2010. 

I do so appreciate you coming by and sincerely hope you will enjoy my humble blog.  It is a work in progress in many ways, but it is work from my heart as I try to recover that critical creative part of myself that had been left to slumber while my babies were babies. 

Should you wish to participate in this wondrous worldwide block party, stop in at Lisa's blog for all the details. 

Favorite Things For Free -- No, Not a Giveaway

Well, that Penny at The Hen House is just a well-spring of inspiration these days!  Today, I follow in her footsteps and list 10 of my favorite things that don't cost a thing . . .
 

1.  Good conversations with all the time in the world.

2.  A good cup of coffee with a hint of chocolate in it.

3.  Fresh, crisp sheets after a hot summer's day.

4.  Colors . . . all of them.

5.  The look of my kids on a winter's night . . . footy pajamas, rosy cheeks.

6.  A beautiful view where I can see for miles.

7.  The knees on a newborn lamb.

8.  The place on my husband's face, between his sideburn and his ear.

9.  Parades.

10.  My son's eyebrows.


Now that the ball is rolling . . . I could go on and on . . . feel free to add to my list!

Happy Birthday To Me

Well, that's it.  I'm 40.

It all happened yesterday.

Do I look any different?

I can't say I feel any different.

Not that I'm complaining about my age.  I made an agreement with myself years ago that I would never resent the age I was.  When I was 28 years old, I lost a friend to a motorcycle accident; we were both only a month out of law school.  That put things in a perspective that I have never forgotten.

No, I'm not complaining . . . just a bit shocked, that's all.  Some numbers get your attention more than others.

Okay, that said, onward ho!

It's taken a lot of years to get this young . . . and I'm not going to miss a minute of it. 

A Chance to be Profound

The storefront glittered and gleamed with holiday lights, artificial snowflakes, and glittering figures.  The four of us looked at each other; eyes big . . "Okay, just remember . . . no touching," we reminded the kids.  "Now let's go have fun!"

As we entered the Christmas shop, we were overwhelmed with the sights, sounds, and even smells of Christmas.  I was initially drawn to the Fontanini nativity figures.  My son, however, beckoned for us all to "Come here!"  He was enamored with a newest Christmas village (or so it seemed to us), the neighborhood from "A Christmas Story."  Yep, there was Ralphie in his pink bunny suit, there was the house bedecked with Christmas lights, the Chinese restaurant, Scut Farkus & his toadie, all of it.  Well, not all of it.  We longed for the school and the flagpole.  I'm sure that will be along soon.  Such fun we all had looking at all the vignettes. 

Soon we moved on . . .

There were Christmas villages and ornaments in every hue and genre and nightlights and nutcrackers and candles and flags and music boxes and table clothes and advent calendars and tree skirts and cookie jars and perfume bottles and anything else you can imagine.  Chocolates?  Yes, even chocolates. 

We had such fun picking things out for here and for there.  It's not every day I find a glittery tree ornament in the perfect shade of lavender for my powder room!

I had spied a few things the kids should have -- from Santa Claus, of course, so my husband,  ever-the-helpful elf, ushered the kids outside while I paid for our picks along with a few more things "Santa" picked out.  As the shopkeeper rang up my order, he picked up two things and asked, "Are these for your children?"

"Yes," I said, "they are."

He put them on the table next to him without ringing them.  "Free," he said.  "I've never had such nice children in my store.  Consider these my gifts to them."

How very kind and unexpected.  I thanked him and hurried out to the kids, eager to share the kindness with them.  They were so excited to receive their surprise hologram-Christmas glasses (I'll have to get a picture.).  Imagine how cute they looked sporting their new 3-D glasses as they re-entered the store and thanked the shopkeeper.  Such a sweet and proud moment for me as well as them.

Simple kindness profoundly affects a wanting heart.

It has been a long road with my daughter.  Most days bring struggle, sometimes smiles are scarce; sometimes my heart struggles to see progress.  This kindness from the shopkeeper was the nod of encouragement my husband and I so desperately needed on that day, at that moment.

This holiday season, I have no advice on dressing your mantle or sprucing up your tree.  But I do implore you:  Show a kindness when the spirit moves you.  Do not let that moment pass.  Don't let that person leave without the thing they may so deeply need.  We so often have no idea the weight of our actions . . . good and bad, expressed and still.  Be kind.  Be gentle.  Do that thing that crosses your mind.

Simple kindness feels profound in trying days.

My heartfelt thanks to Demory's Christmas Memories.  

 

 

Music

Music celebrates,
Music grieves.

A Joyful Noise

About the Artist

Music incites,
Music relieves.

Music quells,
Music achieves.

 

 

Music confesses,
Music deceives.

Gracious gratitude for all, through music, one receives.

Bravery

God Bless Our Veterans

Knitters:  Here's a way to do a small bit:  Handmade Afghans to Thank Our Military (HAP)

Need a Laugh? Me, Too.

My son woke up sick this morning.  Fever, headache.  blah

I sent my daughter off to school, my husband off to work, and set my son up in a chair in the living room for a morning of juice and rest.

With my cup of coffee, I sat down here feeling sort of glum.

Then I visited Weza at Everything by Twos and things brightened up considerably.  Actually, brightened up is an understatement; I laughed out loud.

So rather than do what, by comparison, would be a sub-par post, I will just send you over to Weza's for that smile she promises.  And I dare you not to laugh  . . . out loud!

Thanks, Weza.  I'm glad I found you.