Memorial Day 2010 Tributes

War is an ugly thing, but not the ugliest of things. The decayed and degraded state of moral and patriotic feeling which thinks that nothing is worth war is much worse. The person who has nothing for which he is willing to fight, nothing which is more important than his own personal safety, is a miserable creature and has no chance of... being free unless made and kept so by the exertions of better men than himself

It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived. - General George S. Patton

I will always place the mission first. I will never accept defeat. I will never quit. I will never leave a fallen comrade.  I am disciplined, physically and mentally tough, trained and proficient in my warrior tasks and drills. I always maintain my arms, my equipment and myself.  I am an expert and I am a professional.

God Have Mercy on my enemies, because I won't ~ General George S. Patton

You showed me how I was supposed to Live then you showed me how to die ~ Toby Keith

So far...

Gone yet not forgotten, although we are apart, your spirit lives within me, forever in my heart

Today was long... I had a few good cries, a few good conversations, a few good moments where being a mom was the best comfort, and a few moments where I would have killed to go running.

I feel very tired...

I set up a memorial tribute for my Dad and for all the other Soldiers/Airmen/Sailors/Marines who have lost their lives for the United States of America, for what they believed in...

I miss you, Daddy <3

Dedicated those who still serve, who have served... All the Vets

It's hard missing my Daddy. A weekend full of condolences and kind words. Here's some of the sweetest.

If I'm even a sliver of the man your father was, I'll be a hell of a man.~ A Gunner in Iraq

I am keeping you in my thoughts, have your picture tucked in my pocket over my heart. I've got to go to work. Hooah!~ An Army Medic in Hemland Afghanistan

This weekend will never be about parties for you. It will always be sad, but just know that I have you in my prayers and that this weekend will always remind me of what you lost. Your Dad was a hero. ~A vet. Army Sgt in the states.

I am honoured to know you and wish you strength in carrying through a loss such as yours. You are in our thoughts here this weekend. A toast or ten will be made in your honor. ~A Vet Marine in the states.

and my personal favorite, the double edged sword.

I only met your dad a few times, he scared the hell out of me most of the time, but I always think about how much he loved you and how much he loved our Country... I know you miss him, he was your Daddy, how could you not? Just know I'm here, if you need to talk. I miss you, kiddo. ~ My childhood friend and current soldier in the Army deployed in Iraq.

I don't want to pretend this weekend is easy... But the outpouring of love, from so many that are in Warzones, so many that care... I'm touched and honoured by every word they say. My heart is broken but it's healing a little more every day, all because of those strong and Brave men, who fight for us everyday.

Memorial Day and missing my Daddy, my Hero

It's Memorial Day weekend. 7 months since my Dad's been gone, since he died in Service to the USAF. This weekend is meant to remember him... To remember what others like him have sacrificed for the security of all of us. whether we choose to accept it or not.

I keep crying. The truth is right now all I could use is a fucking hug. I could use my friend back, but I'm afraid to ask for his help, for anything, because I know his girlfriend would think I was trying something. but the truth is, he was there when I found out, and there's no one that could possibly know how badly it hurt me to lose him, how I instantly felt the most terrible pain of my life in that moment. And even though it's been months, maybe it's just the day...or rather what this weekend means. Memorial Day... To remember those that died during their service... But really, it just feels like the world is haunting me, like the pain is so deep within, sometimes, like right now, when I can't do anything but cry. I make it a little while forgetting what is going on with a TrueBlood Marathon (thanks for it btw) and I just keep feeling like my heart is torn, that my insides are spilling out, that my blood is on fire and my face is soaked in tears. I miss my Daddy... God I miss him.

He wasn't blood, but that never mattered. More people said I looked like him rather than my mother. And he taught me so many amazing things. Love, honesty, hope, compassion, humor, integrity, honour, respect, openmindedness, acceptance for what I don't understand. It's all part of it. It's all part of me. He raised me, considering what a damaged little girl I was when he came into my life, very well. He gave me these amazing gifts that I can't see or hold but I feel them, deep inside, alongside the pain and the gaping hole that his voice and face and hugs used to fill. The truth is... I miss him so badly I want to scream, sometimes it hurts so bad there aren't even words, just these painful spasms where I cluch my chest and the tears start over with an ached scream...

How I could I lose my Daddy? He was invincible... he was the only parent who truly just loved me. He wanted me happy but losing him, it's the worst. I can get over everything else. I don't care anymore about my ex. Really, all I think when I think about him is how he abandoned his word with little care... and he's not even my friend, and most certainly not someone I can ask anything from, even if a hug is all I need. I feel so sad... I miss my Daddy... and the tears keep falling...

Sick and tired.

I went to Metrotown and after an hour of waiting with both kids getting cranky by it, I finally managed to get what I needed done. Then I stopped by Walmart where I got  a new phone because mine finally bit the dust. Stupid piece of shit. Oh well. I got a different one and a different prepaid plan. Different number, different features. Better. And it's pink. :)  I also grabbed two huge jugs of milk and some bananas. We go through milk pretty fast and I rarely drink it. My kids need it more than I do. :)

I am feeling pretty tired and sick still. My fever is back, chills occassionally where I'm doing nothing but shaking, my body tense and spasming, followed by extremely hot flashes. This is my kidney  infection in full swing. And stupid idiot that I am, forgot to buy cranberry juice. And since I doubt I can ask anyone to bring me some by, I'll just deal with it. Hopefuly I'll be able to flush myself with other things...

:) Anyways, I'm out of here. I need to pop in a DVD and curl under a blanket. hopefully all goes well.

Rant.

I have so much to do and not a lot of time to do it in. Today I'm off to Metrotown to do some errands there with a double-stroller and the kids packed up with premade snacks, lunch and plenty of diapers to go around. I don't really have time to bring them but since no one seems to be able to watch them, I have to make an all day event out of it. Which is fine, because they are mine and I get it. But I really wish people didn't back out of their word. If you say you are going to be able to help, you should actually... oh, I don't know... help. It's ridiculous that I can't depend on anyone but myself, at least not here. Why are all the people I can depend on so fucking far away? Oh... yea, that was my fault. I was an idiot for ever coming to Canada and I can't wait to get the fuck out of here.

I need to get the hell out of dodge. So today I'm going to get a bunch of my concerns answered, stop by the Post-Office for stamps (again, I do this way too much, I think it's averaging on $20/month to send letters to all my Boys in Uniform while they are over in Iraq/Afghanistan. Although, it is nice to be able to write them freely without worrying that I'll hear more about how bad "Soldiers" are.) I can't wait til October 6th comes. That's the day I'm signing my name on that dotted line. That's the day I'm going to get my fresh beginning. I've found redemption and it wears a uniform. It's also my Dad's birthday.

Anyways, I'm out of here. I have too much to do, but I had to wait for the scattered shower to pass. I have a love-hate thing with rain. I love it when it rains and I am feeling down because then I don't have to pretend and I sort of fit in with all the other faces. When it rains and I have to do shit, however, this bothers me. I hate not having a car. First major purchase when I get where I'm goin!

I hate...

Paperwork. Cleaning. Hassles. Stupid people. Inconsiderate people. Liars. People who break their word. Sluts. People who assume they are better than everyone else just because they have a few more years and less mistakes. Mean people. People who are too stubborn to open thier mind to other people. Deadbeat Dads. Guys who play with girls' hearts. Girls who play with Guys' hearts. Douchebaggery. Politics. Brussel Sprouts. Lima Beans. Black-eyed Peas. Boy bands. Britney Spears. Lonely nights. Lost friends. My dad dying. My broken smile. Diapers. Making meals and cleaning up after. Taking out the garbage.


I love...

My kids. My dog. My friends. My belief in Love and Hope. My theories on life. Reading. Listening to music, watching TV. Having intelligent conversations. Kindness. Compassion. Empathy. People who have honour and integrity. Nice people. People who compromise. Good fathers. Guys who treasure their girls. Girls who are faithful to their Man. Funny people. Comedians. Hot Cocoa. Blueberry Muffins. Pizza. Mexican Food. Rock and Country. Lee Brice. Long, lazy days. Fun amazing nights. My Dad's Flag. My eyes. Pictures on my fridge. Eating yummy food. Having a clean house. :)

Music revolves around me....

The night will come and rip her wings of innocence away with every word we say.

I am tired of defending myself, I have decided something that everyone has had an opinion on and are assuming I am deciding this out of stress and worry and want to help me realize that I am doing the wrong thing OR they are very supportive and helping me relax about it. I have been blessed with the fact that the most important opinions to me, the ones I was uncertain of, have all been supportive. A few people I knew would hate it have showed their views quite strongly and I cannot knock them for it. It is their opinions, but as I told them, respect goes both ways. I listened and took their views into consideration but nothing they said was really strong enough to deter me from this path I have decided to take.

Wake in a sweat again, another day's been laid to waste, been my disgrace, stuck in my head again, feels like I'll never leave this place, there's no escape.

Sometimes I wonder if I'll actually get out of here. I wake up some mornings in a sweat, a panic, my hands shaking, my heart racing. My head so full and filling up more and more. I don't know what to say, the truth is... Truth is my life is terrifying right now. There is no safety net. It's all or nothing. I'm going to jump into the unknown, knowing my kids will be fine for the duration. That is the sole comfort. I know they'll be ok. For the first time, I know that if I don't do this, then I'm making them suffer longer, but if I do, they'll be fine. They'll have a future. Something I so desperately want for all of us.

I don't know what to take, thought I was focused but I'm scared, I'm not prepared. I hyperventilate, looking for help somehow, somewhere, and no one cares.

Quoting a Linkin Park song, I get like this sometimes, but it amazes me the amount of support I have recieved lately. I have only had a few people that I know I cannot turn to for strength because they are against this, but that is fine with me. when 2am hits and I'm having my panic take over there is always someone, somewhere that is there. It's handy having people all over the world, in different time zones. There's always someone to encourage, support, warn, and everything else. They tell me like it is and never make me feel like I'm alone in this. Actually, it's pretty amazing.

"So you're doing it?" yep "Bout fuckin time!" really, ya think? "Fuck I expected this years ago for you!" Better late than never. "Battle buddies!" Haha, yea, so to speak! "Yep, I think it's good for you. I've been waiting for this for a long time. I never thought it would take this long."  Really, I thought I was trying to avoid it for years, but it just occured to me that I am who I am. I can't change it. So why fight it and continue to be miserable... Why not just focus on the future, making something of myself? "Yep, and the kids will have a future too. Good choice." Hope so, I'm scared. "You'll be fine, babe!"

That has been the conversation I have had with most of my boys. It's funny to hear them talk like this comes as no surprise. Maybe it doesn't. To be honest, part of me is and another part is more or less relieved that I have finally decided to do it. I have always regretted five years ago, and now is time to change that. So end of August, everything changes for another huge and final time. At least that is my biggest prayer right now.

sick :(

I am sick for the first time. I mean, really sick. My head is aching, my back is throbbing. I have the chills and sweats and I'm sitting here crying, somewhat afraid. I need cranberry juice or I'll just get worse. Last night I must have gone to the bathroom a hundred times because I felt it approaching so I tried to flush my Kidney with water, but a part of me suspects it may have been caused by my water. I have been drinking more and more water lately and now I'm doubled over. Tears are in my eyes with each spasm of pain. I'm wishing it would stop. In a way, I'm wishing I could simply die from this. That giving up a kidney out of love for my closest kinsman will be my end. I wish I could just fall asleep and not wake up. The pain is so great and it's not just physical.

I was talking to a friend through text last night. Two Am and he's at work, preparing for the next Ruck and I told him that it's not missing my ex. It's the loneliness, it's the stillness, it's the knowing that if I were to scream, no one would come running. He knew exactly what I meant, as I knew he would. He and I are alike in that dark part of ourselves. The part we save from most around us. He gets to see it because I see the same in him. And he's shown me his darkness, probably more of it than anyone else. Including one of my dearest and oldest friends who has served 3 tours already in Iraq and was known by a Genocidal Leaders name during school. The reality is: anyone could be here, anyone at all, and it would stop that emptiness from filling me up, it would stop that stillness from making me fear that I'm deaf, it would stop the memories of every single moment I felt loved from becoming a ghost to haunt me. Other nights, I don't care. I like watching my own stuff, doing whatever, it's nice in a way. But some nights, some nights I would simply die for wanting of being in someone's arms. And I told my friend that last night. He sent me a message back: "You just described how in the perfect words how I feel most nights." Sadly, misery does appreciate company. And unlike Love, distance doesn't matter to Misery. The thought made me feel less alone, which finally enabled me to close my eyes and sleep.

You know what's really funny though? Of all the guys I think about, there's only two that come to mind and haunt me most, ghosts from so many years ago. Texas and Jersey. Of all the boyfriends I've ever had, it's those two I miss the most. Jersey and I were so young, and looking back I do miss that innocense I didn't believe I had until it was completely gone, thrown into a woodchipper and all evidence disposed of. I was though, once. In the only way it mattered when innocent love became a real first love. Jersey was the best boyfriend a girl could have asked to be her first. For a year of dating, he would drive an hour up to see me, hang out and drive an hour home. Two months in, he nervously fumbled with "I'd like to formally ask you to be my girlfriend..." and I blushed and said yes. Ten months in we went to his father's wedding and when we came home, we made love for the first time, not simply for us, but also my first time. It was the perfect first love, we never argued, never fought, never did anything but love eachother. He still loves me and I still love him. In that way a sixteen year old girl will always love her first love. In the way that we spent one perfect year with each other before he released me to live my life in Europe. He broke up with me so I could experience life, he didn't want to hold me back. And life happened, we both regret it in a way now, but the hands of time only go one way.

Texas came about six months after Jersey. He was in the Army, he thought he was all that and a bag of donuts, and we argued... all the time. But in the way that our arguements were stupid and only fueled us. We both had changed from the people we'd once been, we were haunted by our lives, what we'd seen daily. His probably far worse than my own, but a kindred spirit nonetheless. We had an incredibly intense relationship. There was love, passion, heat. It didn't hold the gentleness that Jersey and I had been together. This was more adult, more fierce, more wild and crazy. We travelled together, we laughed and drank and partied together, we worked at the same place, we got a dog together. He was my second love, and really the last love that I can call a real love at all. It's almost funny to me, how Texas and I are so close after all these years, how he tells me that no one knows him better than I do, how I'm his biggest regret out of life. I am ashamed to say that these words just cement my own thoughts, that there was real love there, that real love never dies. It just transforms into unbreakable, unchanging love. The love I bare for Jersey and Texas isn't the same love we shared together. It's different, instead of the same innocent love Jersey and I shared, instead of the Passionate fire that Texas and I burned, it's peaceful love, reserved love, the knowing that of everyone in the entire world, I can call them at any moment and know they would not only answer but soften at my tears. I know that no matter what woman comes into their lives, no matter what man comes into mine, there will always be that bond there, something that many have tried to break, both on my side and thiers and it won't. I'm so grateful for something that only time and experiences shared could ever make as strong as it is.

And yet today, tears are in my eyes, not because of anyone but how my ex was during this. He would get me cranberry juice and if it got to bad, made sure I went to the doctors. But today, today I'll just lay in bed, and hope my friend has the time to bring me some. I hope the kids behave, they seem to be. It's like they know when I just really can't take it and behave much better than they normally do.

Today I'm just sick. Feverish and in pain. God help me endure today.

Life is a highway

I got a call from Iraq today. My phone rang and after 41 minutes (my longest conversation with anyone in Iraq) I reluctantly hung up the phone because he had to go to bed. It was dark with no stars there, here it's cloudy and just beginning to start the day. I think about the distance. 6703 miles between Vancouver and Iraq. That is a long way from home. That is a long way from here. Jersey is only 2400 or so. Germany 4500 or so... Iraq, Iraq is far. But somehow it doesn't feel so far away.

Emails, Facebook, and the ability to call let us stay more connected than ever before. But it doesn't change the fact that there sits a letter to him, two pages long already, waiting to be sent out tomorrow along with a few other letters to various places. Letters are so important to me. I think there is something special about letters, something emails and all the technology in the world can't replace. And these days, the only people who truly appreciate letters are Soldiers, because they are happy reminders of somewhere else.

So my kids are watching Xmen. They have been on a kick for a few days. Lily requested it a few days ago and while she let me change out the dvd for Charmed last night, she insisted "Umbah" went back in first thing. So the kids are enjoying their show. I think they are finally getting used to the fact that he isn't in their lives anymore. I feel sad for them, because they do love him and they can't possibly understand this decision, one that I didn't make, but I think now, unless they see him, most of the time, they are ok. Sometimes though Lily gets upset and calls for him. Jax, though, he's a strong little man. He just tries to boss everyone around now. The terrible twos are starting and the problem is his size. If he wasn't so big and powerful. Already he's broken a chair of mine when he went into a fit. He's not even two and he already has the strength of a cage fighter. In two weeks, he'll be two. Two years old already. I'm glad they are growing up, but I miss how tiny he was, how sweet, how beautiful... my baby boy.

I am feeling pretty good today. Doing laundry and writing letters with my favorite show on dvd playing. A call from Iraq, texts from good friends and hope. Hope and love. Love and hope. My wrists say it all. For the first time in a long time, when I stare at the words, it's not simply a reminder of my beliefs, it's fact. I am loved, maybe not by someone who can give me the world, and maybe I don't have the perfect dream love but I am terribly loved. By so many people. And they all have hope for me, they all want the best for me. Most would be willing to do anything for me. It took me a long time to realize how amazingly lucky I am to have my friends, to have my Guardian Angels, but today I am happy that they love me and I love them too.

Stop Blaming Them

Tick tock (work in progress)

Tick-tock, the clock keeps ticking,
a split-second and the world is empty,
among the broken mirrors and shattered glass,
here isn't a safe place to stand,
looking around this world isn't the one I want to see.
Standing still watching the buildings burn,
this ash is raining on me.
I'm not afraid, the worst is over,
but the battle has just begun to rage around me.
I don't care if this world is destroyed,
I want to help destroy it,
as long as you can't be there to hurt me
or make me watch your obscene version of morality,
I'll gladly watch this world burn.
I'll take my turn and I'll choose my weapon.
Line up the shot, my gaze is long,
my aim is steel
and this bullet will knock you off your feet.
You won't be here tomorrow, not if I kill you today.
Don't fear, I'll make it quick.
You won't have to watch the cities crumble under my rage,
I promise you the sleep of the dead then.
Tick-tock, your heart beats, split second, the world is empty.

Enlisting?

Writing letters to Iraq today. Considering my options. I am considering enlisting.  Heavily considering it.

If I were to enlist, then I would have all my worst fears solved in one move. I would have a steady income, be trained to be a Medic, which is what I have wanted for a long time, the kids would be taken care of and get the safety of being involved in something that I can't just get fired from.

My mother told me she'd prefer the Air Force, like my dad, because I would be a legacy. But I have a stronger pull towards the Army. Not only for the fact the Air Force has many, many more rules that must be obeyed, but I have always felt that the AF feels superior to the Army when really, they shouldn't. The Army deals with a wider range of things than the air force does. Anyways, that's not even my point. The point is I'm deeply considering it. And the plan, if I were to enlist, would fall easily into place, so easily in fact, that it seems as though it is something I must do.

My children would stay with my mom, surrounded by my family, my Gram, my uncles and aunts, cousins and their cousins, while I was in basic and AIT. After that, depending on whether I could push my first deployment through right away (this is a big IF) I would want to get my deployment over, come home and be with my kids when they started school. Either living at Landstuhl or Walter Reid, where I would be in that environment. I want to work Trama because I have the skills and the fortitude and iron stomach. I don't puke at the sight of blood or guts. Not many could say that. Not in real life. :) Anyways, if I were to do that, it would simply fall into place. Also, for a few weeks, I'm guarenteed six hours sleep a night, three meals a day that I don't have to cook and even some playing with weapons and rifles. :) This is always fun in my book.

Anyways, it's just an idea, but it is one that seems to be blossoming into a full on wild flower patch. I can see the possibilities. And since the Army has basically abolished most of their stupid rules, like where tattoos can be, like if you can marry enlisted/officer and all that, the world would still be possible for me. As well as getting my own GI Bill to go to college. Hazard pay from deployments would go into a seperate savings account to buy a house and my kids would be taken care of despite the fact that their father isn't a financial aspect. It seems to me that this idea could potentially be something real and good. It is something I must continue to think about, but it would make sense. And luckily I will have the time during the next few months to look into all my options.

But it's high time I did something with my life. And I wanted to join before, almost did in fact, but I went to Canada. Maybe it's time to go back and sign that dotted line that I fled from nearly 5 years ago.

Beautiful Disaster

She loves her mama's lemonade,

Hates the sounds that goodbyes make.

She prays one day she'll find someone to need her.

She swears that there's no difference,

Between the lies and complements.

It's all the same if everybody leaves her.

And every magazine tells her she's not good enough,

The pictures that she sees make her cry.

And she would change everything, everything just ask her.

Caught in the in between of beautiful disaster,

And she needs someone to take her home.

She's giving boys what they want, tries to act so nonchalant,

Afraid they'll see that she's lost her direction.

She never stays the same for long,

Assuming that she'll get it wrong.

Perfect only in her imperfection.

She's not a drama queen,

She doesn't want to feel this way, only seventeen but tired

She would change everything for happy ever after.

Caught in the in between of beautiful disaster,

But she just needs someone to take her home.

Cuz she's just the way she is, but no ones told her that's ok.

And she would change everything, everything just ask her.

Caught in the in between of beautiful disaster,

And she would change everything for happy ever after.

Caught in the in between of beautiful disaster,

But she just needs someone to take her home

And just needs someone to take her home.

Just a bunch of thoughts.

Some cataclysmic events invite clarity, explode into timelapsed frames: you smash your hand through a mirror and there is blood and shattered glass stained with red all over the place; you fall out a window, break some bones and scrape some skin, stitches and casts and bandages and antiseptic solve and salve the wounds. But depression is not a sudden disaster. It is more like a cancer: at first its tumorous mass is not even noticable to the careful eye, and then one day -- WHAM -- there is a huge deadly 7lbs lumb lodged in your brain or stomach or your shoulder blade and this thing that your own body has produced is actually trying to kill you. Depression is alot like that: slowly over the years, the data will accumulate, will build into your system, making life feel more and more unbarable. But you won't even notice it coming on, thinking that it is somehow normal, something about getting older, about turning eight or twelve or seventeen or twenty-two and then one day, you realize that your entire life is just one long line of awful mistakes, not worth the horror and you become a black blot on the white terrain of human existence. One morning you wake up, afraid your going to live.

And it's not as though I can validate the amount of pain and misery and despair I have suffered and endured as a depressive with the events of my life, which, sadly, today just seem so damn common. My reaction has been uncommonly strong, but really, it seems wrong to blame a statistical fact of life for any of it.

When you consider the widespread nature of depression, especially with people in my generation, it becomes completely mind-numbing, like so much pounding on a frozen, paralyzed limb that bruises but no longer feels. The reasons of why someone is depressed don't really matter, they are all the same. If you ask anyone how she happened to fall into the pit of desperation will always involve new variations of the same old story. there is always divorce, death, drunkeness, drug abuse and any of a thousand premutations of human depravity. I mean is there anyone out there who doesn't think he's fucked up?

On days when I am most dejected, I start to think maybe life doesn't really have a point. Any normal person might want there to be some purpose or reason but I wonder if there's not. What if life is just a bizzare series of flukes and accidents, mistakes and mutations. What if, despite all our efforts, we aren't as important as we pretned? All the decisions and choices we make seem unimportant and trivial looking back. At the end it will be as if you were a foot note in some book no one reads, the kind that sits aging and decaying on the back shelf of someone's senecent mind, long forgotten, rarely remembered. And even when someone dies, and while it may be sad and horrifically tragic, it is simply a part of life. After a while, people move on. Who do you remember? musicians, actors, adventure heros, political leaders, literary geniuses, philosophers, saints, but what of the average man? Is he as insignificant as on single ant among millions? Is there more to him than will be remembered, that is if he'll be remembered at all. I wonder if I'll be remembered.

Some say there is a reason for everything but is that really true? One minute alive, the next dead. A blink of an eye, forgotten. A decad passes, then a century, who will remember then. Even as I write these words I wonder if anyone will remember them. Perhaps they will plant a seed of thought within someone's heart and somehow they will change, become better or worse, but somehow become remembered.

missing the peace

Today, I miss my Dad. I look at his flag and I wish it was him instead. Days like these, when I realize just how long it's been I get sad.


I remember before the war. I remember before the fighting started, before I started losing people I knew. I was 11 when 9-11 happened. My dad was in Special Ops. My life was forever changed...

I almost wish I didn't remember the peace. I have spent so long worried and waiting for news from far away. I have witnessed the injured coming home and buried the dead with a heavy heart. I have always known the sacrifice and the cost that had to be paid so we could be as safe as possible. And now, almost 9 years later, I'm still waiting for them to come home. Still waiting for the time when I can go to sleep and not send a little prayer to the heavens to watch out for all those that are there, all those that serve. I am still waiting for the peace of mind I haven't had since I was a little girl.

Nine long years. I still remember being Interviewed by the callous reporters at the front gates of base. Asking me how I felt, how the war affected me, what my views are. How they could ask a young girl of only 13 those questions, when her father was somewhere classified, gone for however long he was gone, always wondering when he'd be home. I hated the news then and I still do. It causes me such pain to watch the names and faces appear on my tv screen. The ones that will never come home, the ones I knew, the ones I didn't.
It doesn't help having the memories or experiences I have, nor does it help to know that so many friends I knew are gone and there are still more that serve, more joining daily. I write letters to them, I pray for them, I miss them. I hope tomorrow feels better but today I'm sad and missing the peace that I used to have. The kind of peace that existed before these wars. The kind of peace that, for me, only existed briefly. Two years between the abuse of one life and the wars of another. Two years where I was a child... Today, I miss that peace, the kind of comfort I had.
 
Today, most of all, I miss my dad. I look at his flag, place my hand upon the stiching of a star, trace the outline, line up his rack, even though it never moves, delicately touch his rank and the airforce seal. I stare at his name and think of his face, his smile, him in uniform, him in his Blues... All those memories bring tears to my eyes and I lean it, kiss the flag that was given to me to honour his service, and lay my cheek against the firmly folded fabric and a tear rolls from my eyes. I miss him so very much and long for his hug, when I laid my head on his chest and his big, strong arms would wrap around me. I miss his hugs and the flag just doesn't hug me back. My tears fall into it. I'm not crying for him, I know he's in Heaven. I'm crying for me. For the hole he left behind.
 
I miss the peace, the kind I had before the war. At Ruby Tuesdays, with my Dad and my Mom and everything was fine and safe.

Remember (and how I wrote it)

I wrote this a long time ago... long before it truly meant anything to me.
But suddenly, as I look through the cardboard box which lies all my complete and incomplete works of writing. This is something I had writtten before in different stanzas different little bits of paper where a single line would happen and nothing would fit.

Here's the original pieces:

And she closed her eyes just to remember but the feeling was gone, she realized at that moment, her life meant now than it had ever meant before.

She felt herself dangling upon a string, hanging so high above him, looking around she wondered if all she saw was all there really was.

Another life, another time, it would have been perfect

The tragedy I face, the sad forgotten truth is that I never said to you what I always meant to.

He thinks he's gone forgotten alone and thriving merely.

This is what those turned into

And she closed her eyes to remember, but the feeling was gone.

she felt herself dangling upon a string, hanging so high above him

Wondering to herself if all she saw was all there really was

Another life, another time, it might have been perfect

but at that moment she realized how much more her life meant

than it had ever had meant before, when he was hers.

The tragedy she faces, the sad forgotten truth

Is that she never said what she always meant to.

But now she's almost forgotten and not so alone

And her soul is not merely surviving, no, it's striving.

Slumber...

Hours pass at midnight in silent secret, actions saved for dark awakenings and nervous needs. Bleeding hands leave a red trail of past shame and unmentioned skeletons. Garbed in black to match thoughts and intentions, to calm these desperate demons that whisper while demand tunnels my nerve to an extent of overloaded constraint and ultimate surrender. spectors bare witness and remind me of nightmarish past remorse in spectacle, held captive, bound by failure and awful reward. I dream of a prison, my gloomy castle, constructed of countelss contrition. Rotting within these walls of my psyche, ghosts to warden and rarely pardon. Escape is elusive. Sleep is quick and unforgiving. The long shadow of tall mistakes.

Words like raindrops

And my words fall like raindrops, fleeing from the clouded overthought of my mind. Laying scattered on the ground, a million and one mirrors reflecting sight and sound.

My memories dripping like melting ice cream, slipping away under the heat of conscious fricition. The two sides of my mind, spark and ignite, setting alight dense overgrowth.

The charred remains will serve as new fields, to sow and reap healthy development.

Like vultures circling the sky, my thoughts are flying by gaining speed and momentum in one direction, towards me and my... my... my mind is dry, my psyche is thirsty and in between is warm and cold.

Something new and something old.

It's there I can feel it. It's been there all along. Maybe it happened quick and fast, but I can remember it dragging on, now it's there, and try as I may, it's there to stay. Shake and shiver. Twist and quiver, the grasp bares strong.

And now I can't think anymore, there's something wrong.

But let me say that I'm sure to say what I've been saying all along. Maybe you heard everyword but dismissed it long gone. The least to say many a day passed and paused without much though in between the white and the black. I stand blue and forgotten.

Let me be alone for a while.

Once upon a time...

The words written here are echoes of thought, true, untrue, imaginary, real, complete, incomplete, perfect and wrong.
Every thought that compels these words to flow from the front of my mind out the tip of my fingers is merely an excessive excuse which is not needed. My words, whether flowing or staggard are mine, nonetheless.
This is my completely absurd yet unwaiveringly accurate account of my life from the experiences to my thoughts.
A patchwork compilation of my existence. And of others, the rare and elusive creatures known as friends, mentors, loves and mere aquaintences who, in their own ways, touched my life, in inexplicably grand fashions, no matter the size of the deed.
I hereby vow, that to the best of my knowledge, that what follows is as I remember, the ugly and grotesque truth and those moments that were perfect despite everything.
I hope this comes out right, remember the lost lessons, immortalize the good that died much to young.
This is my life, remember that.

THANK YOU

Thanks to a certain LT in the Army I have no worries for a little while. No thanks to anyone in this AREA...

Just a man who is about to be deployed and has a heart of gold for a veteran's daughter...

Thank you Good Sir.

Who I am - draft 1

Boy, you've changed, you've become a man
We were just young gutterpunks living and spiraling
But now we're older and we've got a plan

Who I am, just in case, is who I have always been
Every day I change, but my cores is still the same
Remember those days back, way back when

Im a holey pair of jeans, boots and a tank top,
A mix of wild black hair, deep brown eyes and
I've got a heart of gold that will never stop

sometimes a little reckless and out of control
A rebel without a cause or reason to rebel
I'm a mix of country music that comforts my soul

and heavy metal guitar that confounds my mind
I'm a poet and an artist, a country girl on extreme
I care for all that is mine and these ties that bind

I have my Daddy's tongue and Momma's temper
Got trouble holding myself back when I am riled
Sometimes my mouth could use a filter

God shook his head the day he built me
Knowing that I was troublebound.
Oh but, I bet he smiles at the memories

Always been a little fiesty, wild and unruly
Half redneck, a punk inside, a mix of american pride
I'm not reckless, but dangerous, absolutely

I'm a cross around my neck and a cussword on my lips
A hero honored with dogtags jingling against my heart
And the knife always slid between my jeans and my hips.

Got my Daddy's flag and unending pride
The strength inside holds me true until I'm alone
Knowing he'll never know how much I cried
Sometimes I'm a little too intense and don't know who to be
But I know I can't be normal, I can't pretend to be the girl you want
I don't know what to say except Crazy has nothing on me

I'm not right, not even a little, but maybe I'm just right for you
All our talks and endless planning, daydreams and instant bond
I'm sometimes a knockout, sometimes a mess, are you ready to see this through?

The Prayer

Dear God,
I'm down here on my knees because it's the last place I have left to fall.
I'm begging for another chance, if there's any chance at all...
That you might still be listening and loving and forgiving girls like me.
I have spent my whole life getting it all wrong,
I sure could use your help from now on.
I want to be a good girl, a do-like-I-should girl,
I wanna be the kind of girl the mirror likes to see
I want to be a strong girl and admit that I was wrong.
God I'm asking you to come change me, into the woman I want to be.
If there's anyway to give me a new start
Could you see what you could do to put some love back in my heart
Because it's going to take a miracle after all that's been done to make me see
That this life is a statement, not a question of reality.
I want to have a great man, the kind of man that I see in my dreams
God, I want that man, I want him to be my man.
God, I swear I still believe that I'll be the woman I want to be.
While I know this late night talk is cheap, but I hope your listening
Lord, I beg you, don't give up on me, I swear, I'm ready to start over.
I want to find a giving man, I really want to start living, Man...
God, I'm asking you to come change me into the woman I want to be.

Dear Daddy

Dear Daddy,
           It's been too long since you've been gone and yet, not very long at all. The sky is blue and righteous in all directions. The day is the perfect day outside. In my mind, I see you standing there, uniform and all, home from a deployment, but this is the longest of all. I know you won't come home this time, I mean you've been gone this long before, but never once was so unending. I really miss you so much, and I can't stop thinking about you. Remember singing "American Soldier?" You held Mom's hand and sang and I remember thinking about that song... "I counted up the cost, I know the sacrifice" Did you know? Did I know? I know now, much more than I knew before. The pressure you were always under, you're ability to carry on.          
          You are my Daddy, my own Hero. I'm so proud to be your daughter, so proud to have your flag. But sometimes I really miss you, like today and yesterday and all the days before. Lately, I don't care about much beyond getting back to a place where men like you are. I support my friends that serve, texting and calling and being their confessor when they need. You taught me more than I can ever fully thank you for. You taught me compassion and empathy, love and hope. You always believed in me and now, I'm taking that to heart, Daddy.
          I am trying really hard to move back. I fill out paperwork and make phone calls and worry that it will take too long. I just don't want to be here anymore. This place is getting old and quite honestly, I don't think anything beyond the beauty could hold me here. I am desperate to get out of this place, even more desperate to get back to where the values you taught me lie.
           I miss you Daddy. I love you always. Just another letter, in memory of you.

The warrior song

Dedicated to ALL SERVICEMEN, PAST, PRESENT AND FUTURE

I've got the reach and the teeth of a killin' machine, with a need to bleed you when the light goes green, best believe, I'm in a zone to be, from my Yin to my Yang to my Yang Tze.

Put a grin on my chin when you come to me, cuz I'll win, I'm one of a kind and I'll bring death to the place your about to be: another river of blood running under my feet.
Forged in the fire lit long ago, stand next to me, you'll never stand alone.
I'm last to leave, but the first to go, Lord, make me dead before you make me old.
I feed on the fear of the devil inside of the enemy faces in my sights: aim with the hand, shoot with the mind, kill with a heart like artic ice.

I am a soldier and I'm marching on, I am a warrior and this is my song.

I bask in the glow of the rising war, lay waste to the ground of an enemy shore, wade through the blood spilled on the floor, and if another one stands I'll kill some more.
Bullet in the breach and a fire in me, like a cigarette thrown to gasoline, if death don't bring you fear, I swear, you'll fear these marching feet.
Come to the nightmare, come to me, deep down in the dark where the devil be, in the maw with the jaws and the razor teeth, where the brimstone burns and the angel weeps.
Call to the gods if I cross your path and my silhouette hangs like a body bag; hope is a moment now long past, the shadow of death is the one I cast

I am a soldier and I'm marching on. I am a warrior and this is my song.
My eyes are steel and my gaze is long, I am a warrior and this is my song.

Now I live lean and I mean to inflect the grief, and the least of me's still out of your reach.
The killing machine's gonna do the deed, until the river runs dry and my last breath leaves.
Chin in the air with a head held high, I'll stand in the path of the enemy line
Feel no fear, know my pride, for God and Country I'll end your life.

 

Dedicated to my Daddy

I’m just tryin’ to be a father, raise a daughter and a son

Be a lover to their mother, everythin’ to everyone

Up and at ‘em bright and early, I’m all business in my suit

Yeah I’m dressed up for success, from my head down to my boots

I don’t do it for money, there’s bills I that I can’t pay

I don’t do it for the glory, I just do it anyway

Providing for our future’s, my responsibility

Yeah I’m real good under pressure, being all that I can be

And I can’t call in sick on Mondays when the weekend’s been too strong

I just work straight through the holidays, and sometimes all night long

You can bet that I stand ready, when the wolf growls at the door

Hey I’m solid, hey I’m steady, hey I’m true down to the core.

And I will always do my duty no matter what the price

I’ve counted up the cost, I know the sacrifice

Oh and I don’t want to die for you, but if dyin’s asked of me

I’ll bear that cross with honor, cause freedom don’t come free.

I’m an American Soldier an American

Beside my brothers and my sisters, I will proudly take a stand

When liberty’s in jeopardy, I will always do what’s right

I’m out here on the front lines, sleep in peace tonight

American Soldier, I’m and American, Soldier.

An American Soldier an American

Beside my brothers and my sisters, I will proudly take a stand

When liberty’s in jeopardy, I will always do what’s right

I’m out here on the front lines, sleep in peace tonight

American Soldier, I’m and American, an American, an American, Soldier

smiles

smiles are hard to fight when you feel special to someone

and tonight you made me feel special to you

thank you for the smiles, you never fail to inspire

the confidence you fill me with, and the sound of your laugh

the way I feel so comfortable and melt into your slight accent

I hope you always inspire this feeling of overwhelming smiles

the way you make me laugh, the way you make me dream

I sing these country songs and dream of you dancing with me

all the little messages pass between us, like notes back in school,

little jokes and private laughs only made for us two

this smile is just firmly on my face, inspired only by you

you are a hero and I am awed

I hope that this will be good, maybe this will be love

maybe this is all like luck, go all in to find it

I am a foolish girl to feel like this

But I'd rather be a fool than the girl who never tried...

and until I have to stop, I'll be smiling at every note passed,

at every conversation, the sound of your voice, laugh, smile