LINKED BY FRIENDSHIP, HARDSHIP AND FAITH

I want to share with you an extremely unusual story of two families, their friendship, their sons and the unfortunate circumstances that have befallen each of their sons.   This is a story filled with faith, prayer and trust in our Lord.   This is the time of year when families gather together to celebrate Christmas and look ahead to a New Year filled with  hopes for health, joy and prosperity.   These two families have, for the last year, shared a burden that neither would have ever imagined.... yet it has not only brought them closer but it has become a source of prayers, prayer chains, love and support that is universal in its scope.   For me to be personally a tiny part of this support in offering prayers for them has been an honor God has laid upon my heart and the hearts of thousands all over the world.  I know that you will be moved to share this desire to pray for these families as well.   I was not aware of these two families until December 2011.

The Skellys with four children and the Powers with two children, were living in Fremont, California in 1992.  Stacy Skelly's son is Tyler, her oldest,  and Cathy Powers' son is Bryce.   As mothers of young boys who went to school and played together, they formed a bond that has lasted over the years.   The families eventually moved  to different states but the mothers stayed in touch.  The boys grew up, graduated from school and each chose to enlist in the military.   Bryce chose the Air Force and Tyler the Marine Corps.

Last December 2011, Tyler was stationed in Bahrain.   A young Marine man in excellent health, he suffered a fall that caused severe brain damage.  While being treated it was discovered he was diabetic.   He was in a coma and once stabilized flown to Germany where the situation became worse during the flight, near death when he arrived.  Again he needed to be stabilized to return to the states, to Walter Reed where Stacy was at his bedside.

This is when I was introduced to Stacy and Tyler by a friend from my church who had moved to Tennessee a few years before.  Two of her friends at her new church were the grandparents of Tyler.   When they mentioned Walter Reed to her she told them about my visits to the hospital with our Marine Corps League and they asked if I might visit with the Skellys.   How grateful I was that God had positioned all of us so that I might be there for them, so far from home with no other family able to be by their sides.   As often as time allowed I would visit with them, pray with them, and just be there for them.   Tyler was in a coma for many weeks.

Stacy had reached out to her friend Cathy and Cathy started a "Support Tyler Skelly" Facebook page that took on a life of it's own.   Prayers were flowing in from everywhere.....and they were such an enormous source of encouragement for Stacy!!!   Friends and strangers were there for her every day.....awaiting a new report every morning.... all of us praying to our Great Healer in Heaven for a miracle.  You can  go to that page and see how a year of prayer has brought miracles.   In the spring Tyler was moved to Palo Alto, CA where Stacy accompanied him to a new facility.   He has made incredible gains, but he is yet to be able to speak.   He looks like his pre-incident self, but speech has eluded him.  This is what we are all praying for so please join me in prayer for Tyler to regain his ability to speak.

Now ten months have gone by.   In that time Bryce had been stationed in Japan with the Air Force.   On October 13, 2012, just ten minutes off base on the weekend, he was in a catastrophic  automobile accident.   In a coma, he was hospitalized in Japan for weeks and then transferred to Hawaii and finally transferred to Richmond, VA.    Cathy is at his side where she has been since the accident. Bryce is still in a coma and now there is a support page on Facebook for Bryce.   Cathy and Stacy are there for each other.   Bryce has had many setbacks, but the power of prayer and the knowledge that hundreds are praying is  what keeps hope alive.   Cathy has complete faith and trust in the Lord that He will restore Bryce to the person he was prior to the accident.   She asks us all to pray for specific healing each day when she updates us.

That is where we come in.............we know that if there are multitudes of us praying, if we believe and trust that God can bring miracles,  than these two young men who chose to serve their country, their careers cut short by tragic accidents....will one day be well.   As we know, the most difficult is the reality that ultimately it is God's will that prevails.  That these two families are sharing the same tragedies  is remarkable to say the least. The evidence of God's presence in their healing is a reality that we cannot deny.The unified support from people everywhere has been a glue that has held us all together to share the ups and downs of recovery for both Tyler and Bryce.  I ask each of you to please pray for each of them.   Their progress can be found on their individual Facebook Support pages.

QUILTS FOR MY FRIENDS

QUILTS FOR MY FRIENDS

Mission statement of Quilts of Valor from their website: "The mission of the Quilts of Valor Foundation is to cover ALL combat service members and veterans touched by war with comforting and healing Quilts of Valor."

After hearing from friends about this truly wonderful organization and their legions of quilters all over our country, I realized that there were very special people in my life who I felt had earned the gift of a Quilt of Valor.  Patriotic themed custom made patchwork quilts mostly in reds, whites and blues, some with military branch patches, some with the recipient's name sewn in, and always with the names and towns of the volunteer quilters.

The first time I contacted the organization I was requesting a quilt for my friend Sgt. Gordon Ward, Iwo Jima Marine and the subject of my second article (Published 11/7/12).    I contacted them through their site and hoped to receive one in time for Father's Day 2010 and my wish was fulfilled!   That Father's Day is one that is etched in my mind forever.   Ana, his daughter, wheeled her father into a private party room where  she sang his favorite songs in karaoke and then I presented him with his beautiful quilt.   As weak and frail as he was he stood, saluted and sang for us the Marine Corps Hymn.    Hugging each other,  there were plenty of tears falling down our faces.     He cherished that quilt and enjoyed it for a full year, as he passed the day before Father's Day 2011.

The second time I contacted QOV  was for my father Henry Warren,  a WWII soldier who served in the Signal Corps in the Philippines. By 2010 he was ill and very frail.   I hoped that he would appreciate a quilt as he was always feeling cold, and what better way to stay warm than a quilt honoring him for his service to our country?   When it arrived he told me he felt unworthy of such a magnificent gift, but after some convincing he accepted it with an open heart.   Dad used his quilt through his last months he was alive, less than a year, but it warmed my heart so to see him use it regularly.   He passed away in a nursing home and it was the shining light in his room.   Now I have his quilt and I am so very thankful to display it knowing how fond he was of the quilt he first wanted me to return to the sender!!!

The third quilt I requested was for the husband of a friend from my church, David Schubert.   Ann and her husband had moved to Tennessee while he was in remission from a bout with brain cancer.   He was a former Navy Seal now in his 60's.   Sadly his cancer returned and I hoped to surprise him with a Quilt of Valor with which he would surround himself.  It was tricky, as I wanted it to be a surprise and have it delivered to their home.  When it arrived, not recognizing the return address on the package, Ann brought it to the hospital to ask David if he was familiar with the address and he was not.   He asked Ann to open it and there was one of the most beautiful handmade quilts they had ever seen.  I was able to see it draped over his bed in the hospital and his sofa at home in photos she shared with me via the internet.   There were but a few days left for David before the Lord took him home.

Late last year my brother-in-law Robert McBride, a soldier in Vietnam,  planned to retire at 65 and enjoy life but was diagnosed with Agent Orange related lung cancer.  He and his family live in North Carolina.   Knowing that Robert felt cold all the time, I wanted him to enjoy the warmth of a quilt.   Once more I called upon Quilts of Valor and they were able to create a beautiful quilt for Robert that he deeply loved for too short a  time before he passed away in May of this year.

Again and again each quilt brought joy, warmth and love to it's recipient.     Each of those beautifully hand crafted and personalized quilts showed that America cares, America remembers, and America will never forget.   What a
unique and exceptional way to show our veterans just how much our country cares.  I give thanks to the multitude of quilters who volunteer countless hours to craft quilts by the hundreds for our veterans, gifts that come from one heart to warm the heart of another.

FIRST IMPRESSIONS AND A CHANGE OF HEART

As so many veterans of war know, time does not always heal their hidden wounds.  That was certainly the case when a Vietnam veteran read my autobiography on my Grass Roots Troop Support webpage.   It stated that back in the 60's I was an anti-war protestor (an unfortunate stance  based on misinformation from the media) but due to 9/11 and my nephew enlisting in the Marine Corps and a new era of patriotism,  how I felt then was not how I felt after 9/11.   This former Marine read the bio and became so inflamed that he proceeded to send me a scathing email lambasting me, a total stranger, for all that he had suffered through is time in Vietnam and his maltreatment when he returned home.  He said he was speaking for all who were in his shoes, not just himself.

He wrote of his two years at war, 1967-1969, that hundreds of thousands of Americans and South Vietnamese were killed, how we at home called those veterans baby killers and worse, how we protested and spit on them upon their return home, his horrible experiences of dying friends and the sound and smell of war.   He blamed me and my friends for "not caring if they rotted over there in hell."   He wrote that we are supporting our troops today because of our guilt for our treatment of our Vietnam veterans.   He wrote that those who returned from that war vowed to make sure no other generation of warriors would suffer what they did.   He cursed me and accused me of being one of the enemy of that era.  This veteran who chose to share his long suffering anger with me, a stranger, reiterated again and again in his email that the years of pain, mental anguish, suicides were compounded by a government and VA that did not support them or understand them.  He called me names.   In closing he did thank me for caring enough to send care packages to our troops serving in Iraq.   This veteran's name was Casey and the year was 2009.

I was shaken to my core by this email....so upset that my heart was pounding.   I had never been on the receiving end of such a tirade and was unsure how to react, whether I should just delete it or respond to his fury.   I inquired of a friend, a very special friend, a Christian whom I knew would give me sound advice.   He did just that.  He suggested that I write back to Casey expressing my sadness at his continued pain and suffering, that  I realized it was misdirected and I want to help as a sister in Christ.   He was totally shocked that I responded at all!!!    I, too,  felt that reaching out was the way to go.   I asked him if we could speak on the phone.  I gave him my phone number.  It took some weeks before he called.  As we spoke I felt that Casey needed to have Jesus in his life.  I asked if he did and he told me yes, but not for many years and that my reaching out to him made him realize he needed to ask Jesus back into his life.   I thanked my friend for his advice. I thank God for giving me the opportunity to befriend  him when he was expecting retaliation or nothing at all.

Casey served with 1st Bn/9th Marines, the "Walking Dead", a unit that suffered severe losses in Vietnam.  Our phone calls increased, we became friends,  I learned more about his time at war, about  his family, about his pain.   He told me that our friendship and his relationship with the Lord finally allowed him to release much of the pain and anger he had harbored all those years.  What better gift to me then such words!   Our friendship grew over time.  We spoke frequently.

The 1/9 has a network of veterans of the Nam era.  Casey felt compelled to support my care package effort and asked his network if they would be willing to donate to the packages.  A year after our rather unusual 'meeting' I was delivered by hand a check for $1000 from one of the members who lived in Virginia.   Later that year, in the fall of 2010, I was invited to the 1/9 national reunion as a guest.   Once again I find it hard to express my feelings.   To recall how Casey and I started, to being an honored guest at their reunion is hard to put into words.   I again thank God for making all things possible.   That network has donated more than once to supporting my care packages.      Who ever would have thought at the outset where this angry email would have taken us?  Casey and I will remain friends throughout our lives.

THE GIFT OF PAPER

This is a story about reams of paper and a 'thank you' letter that I will never forget which was written on graph paper.

Once again it starts with a cruise, our annual mother and daughters cruise.   As I wrote previously, I am not shy about telling strangers that I send care packages  in support of our troops deployed or asking for donations.   Occasionally the conversation leads to some rather remarkable outcomes.  This is one of those outcomes!!!!

A gentleman I met from Maine was most interested in assisting in supporting my efforts and promised to address this subject with his Kiwanis Club as soon as he returned home.   A couple of weeks later I received a phone call from a woman who heard his request at the Kiwanis meeting.  She owned a paper company and wanted to know if I would have a need for paper of any kind.   She had reams of paper, considered 'seconds', that she could ship to me.   I thought long and hard about what I could do with it and realized it could be used for our deployed troops to write home and perhaps other uses I was not even aware of.   I accepted and she sent me hundreds of pounds of paper, all cut to 8x10 and placed in clear zip lock bags.   Most of it was plain white or solid colored paper.  I literally had to have someone lift it and store it for me as there was nowhere in my apartment to keep it.

Slowly I used it, tossing a couple of these reams of paper in each care package knowing our troops would find ways to use it.   The added weight in each care package added to the shipping cost but I felt it would be worth it and it was.   This was back in 2004 when we were transitioning out of Iraq and starting to build up our troops in Afghanistan.

Again my nephew Alex McBride was deployed with 3rd Battalion, 6th Marines.   They were all over Afghanistan and of course we were not to know their locations as they moved around the country.  This letter started with the endearing words "Dear LCpl McBride's Aunt".
He was writing to thank me for the package and tell me he was always the first one to 'hit the snacks'.  Then he proceeded to tell me that upon arrival in country they were given maps of their AO (area of operation).  Assuming  the maps were current they went out on their first patrol only to find that the roads, dry creek beds and buildings on their  maps did not exist, and what did exist  was not on the maps.   Only the ancient ruins were accurate!!!!   As it turned out, the maps they were given were surveyed in 1954 and reprinted in 1970 and were useless!!!!!!   

As this Marine wrote further 'Being the creative mission accomplishing Marines that we were we decided to map our own maps using our GPS's and our little knowledge of the area.  However, we couldn't draw straight grid squares for anything.  Then we got mail !!!!'  He started going through the box looking for favorite snacks when he found at the bottom bags of graph paper, mentioning that he ate a lot of snacks as well.  He immediately started making maps using the tracking feature on his GPS that tracked every patrol that they had done.
They found three alternate routes leading to their base, which was imperative in order to avoid ambush by the enemy as they avoided a pattern in their routes.  

His last statement was the one that really hit home.   "The graphing paper that you sent is helping to keep Marines safe and helping to complete our missions (killing terrorists)....that the graph paper was literally savings the lives of our Marines."  There were only a few reams of graph paper in the entire shipment I received.   His boxes just happened to be the ones containing the graph paper.  Coincidence?
I think not.   The Lord working in His mysterious ways yet again. 

Over time there will be other letters I will share with you.  This one has always held a special place in my heart.   I can't help but smile every time I look back and know that God has us covered no matter where we are.

HOW IT ALL BEGAN

HOW IT ALL BEGAN

Grass Roots Troop Support......the title I gave my care package ministry ten years ago.   Not too many folks were sending care packages to the service men and women at the outset of the war in Iraq.   It all started with a letter my sister received from Parris Island prior to my nephew Alex McBride's graduation ceremony from boot camp.   That letter told her there were many Marines who would have no family members attending the ceremony culminating the completion of their life altering training.   The Marine Corps was requesting those families attending the weekend to 'adopt' one of the Marines and show them the admiration and appreciation due any recruit who had gone  through boot camp and made it to graduation as one of "the few and the proud".   That letter was etched in my heart........I could not fathom any young man or woman achieving the ultimate goal of the Eagle, Globe and Anchor and all it entailed without their family there.

Weeks later when Alex first deployed to Afghanistan the reality of those Marines with no family support spoke to my heart.  I asked Alex if he would be my middle man, my distributor, of care packages if I mailed one or two.   Naturally he was pleased to help.   That was intended to be a package every few weeks but he Lord had other intentions for the future of this endeavor.   I also realized I might consider asking friends for donations.   One friend suggested a local paper write an article about what I was doing to bring awareness to the community so that perhaps others would be inspired to follow this path.   That small article and my willingness to ask just about anyone for donations turned my little project into something much larger.

Before I knew it, the funds were rolling in and I was shipping fifteen boxes out each week to different units out of Camp Lejeune and Cherry Point, NC.   destined for  Iraq, Djibouti and Kuwait. Later, as each unit prepared to return to the states, I requested the names and addresses of their replacements.   This project just kept expanding! Unfortunately, due to the economy, I now send fewer boxes each week.

I received letters of thanks...far too many to count.    Each letter lifted my heart and soul and made me more determined to keep this effort going.  Commandants, Regiments, Battalions, Companies, Squads and individuals expressed their gratitude by sending me American flags flown in my honor with accompanying certificates (some on very special dates such as 9/11, July 4th or Memorial Day) and challenge coins.   Many, in their letters, shared a little about themselves and their families back home.  I'm so thankful the Lord put in on my heart to serve our troops ....He certainly knew more about me than I did when He opened that door!!!    What means most to me is knowing the happiness that comes to those who open the boxes to find all sorts of snacks, socks, toiletries and magazines that I know troops appreciate.    I recall one letter where a 1stSgt who received a box wrote that it was the "Motherload"  of all care packages!!   That definitely put a huge smile on my face.  Most importantly those who are serving far from home are assured that we 'have their backs'. Their morale and their well being are lifted up in knowing that we at home have not forgotten them and we are always here for them.

I am humbled and honored to know that after all these years our warriors are still moved by the boxes I pack and ship.  I started out shipping to NCO's of each unit and then I switched to the chaplains because they travel all over the (AO) Area of Operation which would reach more troops in the most remote FOBs. (Forward Operating Bases). The chaplains continue to be a huge blessing to the distribution process.   So many people are factors in making this ministry a success.   I give thanks every day for the cooperation of the Family Readiness Officers (liaisons between active duty troops and their families) of each unit and their willingness to work with me.

Over the years my life has been fulfilled by meaningful friendships with those in the military and their families.   I cannot imagine what my life would have been like the last ten years had I not been involved with supporting our deployed troops and the gratification I received by serving others.  As the war winds down and our troops return home next year, I look forward to whatever doors the Lord will open for me.
I will always continue to pray for their safety and give thanks for their voluntary service to our great country.

PLEASE CLICK ON PROFILE FOR PHOTOS/CLICK EACH PHOTO FOR CAPTIONS

CARE PACKAGE HEARTACHE

11/28/12

As you know from previous articles one of my passions for the last ten years has been sending care packages to our troops in  Iraq and Afghanistan.   I started back in 2003 when my nephew Alex first deployed to Afghanistan.   In a future article I want to tell you how that all came about, but not today.

One of the units I was shipping to was 3rd battalion, 8th Marines out of Camp Lejeune.   I used to ship to each of the five companies of a combat battalion and wrote asking the Marine in charge of each company to whom I might address those packages and which Marines might not be receiving mail.   I was given the names of several Marines in each of the five companies.   It is the end of 2008, the holiday season.   I packed each box with loving care as if I knew the recipient, filled with non-perishable food, toiletries and magazines that I know the guys prefer to read.   I pictured in my mind the joy their faces would express when the boxes were opened. 25lbs of goodies.  There were five going out that week.  One was addressed to LCpl Alberto Francesconi.   I got them ready a few days early so they were stacked and ready for me to take them to the post office.

Each morning I receive email announcements from the DoD. (Department of Defense),  war related news and casualty reports.   I see a name that seems so familiar to me but I cannot place it.....for an hour I puzzled over that name......until it registered...I went through the stacked boxes  and there was the box addressed to  LCpl Alberto Francesconi, 21 years old, killed in combat January 1, 2009, the first casualty of the new year.   I was stunned........I felt as if I had my heart was torn out.   In all the years I had shipped to our Marines I never anticipated this happening.  Of course all of us at home realize the dangers of war but I never expected it to touch me so personally.   After the shock passed I wept for the loss of this young man and  his family.   How difficult it was for me to remove that label from that box and readdress it to another Marine in his company.   I felt that loss as if he were my by brother or my son,  and yet I did not know him.

A few days later I located an article on the internet that appeared in the local paper where Alberto lived.  He was from the Bronx, New York.  I contacted the author of that article and told her my story.   She was stunned as well, and wrote a follow up article about my heart breaking experience.  She  shared my story with his family and made it possible for me to send them a letter of condolence.    They contacted me months later to thank me for the card and package I had prepared for Alberto.

Many years late  his sister contacted me on Facebook to thank me again for caring enough to pack a box for her brother and for reaching out to her family.

Fast forward to August 2011.  I received an email from a journalism student at Columbia Journalism School.   Each student in his class had an assignment  to "write a memorial of a fallen soldier for the 10th anniversary of 9/11"
 and his fallen soldier was Alberto.   He was unable to locate any members of the family and by searching the internet found previous articles about Alberto where my name was mentioned.   I told him I doubted my luck would be any better than his, but  I would see what I could do.   Back to Facebook I found the old messages from his sister and I wrote her explaining  the situation regarding a student who would like to interview the family members for this very special project.   Time was of the essence.....it was nearly Veteran's Day by now...as this had all taken many weeks to coordinate.
Finally I heard from his sister and the family was willing to speak to the student!   Well, I have to thank the Lord for making this all work out......never in a million years would I have imagined this meeting would take place.     Not only was the family willing to share Alberto's life, but it seems the family had a memorial celebration every year, as it was Alberto's birthday as well.  A large family cookout with some of his old Marine buddies who drove up to New York.    The family  invited the student to join them to eat, chat and get all the material he needed for his project.  They also invited me to come up to NY to share the laughter and the tears but because of my work I was unable to attend although I was incredibly grateful that this gathering would take place.

Again the Lord was in control.... connecting  me with  people who have had such an impact in my life....each one is a special gift and will always hold a special place in my heart.

GOD AND FRIENDSHIP

11/21/12

There are no coincidences when it comes to people crossing our paths!! 

In the words of C.S. Lewis on friendship:
“In friendship…we think we have chosen our peers. In reality a few years’ difference in the dates of our births, a few more miles between certain houses, the choice of one university instead of another…the accident of a topic being raised or not raised at a first meeting–any of these chances might have kept us apart. But, for a Christian, there are, strictly speaking no chances. A secret master of

ceremonies has been at work. Christ, who said to the disciples, “Ye have not chosen me, but I have chosen you,” can truly say to every group of Christian friends, “Ye have not chosen one another but I have chosen you for one another.” The friendship is not a reward for our discriminating and good taste in finding one another out. It is the instrument by which God reveals to each of us the beauties of others."

A chance meeting at an airport back in 2005 brought  a very special family into my life through incredible circumstances.  A wounded Marine being transported from Germany to Bethesda Naval Hospital (now Walter Reed) via Andrews AF Base with his parents, a brother arriving at Dulles Airport from Atlanta to meet them at the hospital, my mother, sister and I arriving at Dulles from a cruise.  These are the people God has aligned to cross paths in this story.   The likelihood of what transpired at that point is nothing short of a miracle.

In that short time we were at the airport an announcement was made "will the Marine Corps liaison please come to the travel desk."  By now you know that due to my nephew Alex's being a US Marine, my awareness of all things Marine related is heightened to where an announcement such as that compelled me to investigate.   I found a young man at the travel desk and I inquired if there was something I might do to assist.   This is when I met Dani Pereira from Atlanta who had been waiting hours for his contact to get him to the Naval hospital.   My family had a shuttle bus arriving any minute and we live a mile from the hospital.  I offered Dani a ride and he accepted.

Sitting in the rear of the van I learned Dani's story.  His brother John had been partially run over by a seven-ton truck in the heat of battle in Iraq.  Incredibly his screams were heard over the cacophony of war machinery and artillery!!!!   After several days in Germany he was stabilized to return to the states.   I learned that John was with 3rd Bn/8th Mar, India Company, a unit I was shipping care packages to.  His 1stSgt was my contact.   The chance that John was one of the recipients of the contents of my care packages was pretty likely!!!   Once again I realize the Marine Corps community can be so small.  I learned of the brotherly love of Dani and John, John being his baby brother.
By the time we arrived at Bethesda,  we had established a closeness that often tragedy brings.   We exchanged phone numbers and I asked Dani to let me know of John's progress.

Two days later I got the call.   Dani's parents wanted me to come visit the ICU.   The moment his mother Fatima and I met, it was as if we had been sisters all our lives.   Being from Brazil with a heavy Portuguese accent, she felt inadequate in her language skills and felt more comfortable with me there, so I wanted to be there every day that I could.    The blessing of my retail schedule allowed for alternating mornings and evenings off.  Either way, I was with Fatima almost daily for the months John was here.   I became part of the family.   I convinced them to take time away from his bedside while I stayed with John.  In a coma a patient hears and feels and is aware of what is taking place around him.  We talked, sang, massaged, mopped his brow.....and when he finally came awake he remembered our attentions.     (My first article for the paper was about Steven Diaz, who was in the next room and through my visits to the Pereiras I met Steven).

Several months went by and John's recovery was slow.....there were complications....he was known as the 'Miracle Marine'.   Since then and up to the present you can imagine how many 'miracle patients' they have had.    John was finally discharged to return home to rehabilitate.  He did so well that he deployed again later that year back to Iraq but not as an 0311 Infrantry Rifleman...he was in Admin.  Not too happy about that but he was well enough to fulfill his obligation to the Corps and complete his contract.

While home and before deploying he met a young lady he planned to marry when he returned.  The following New Years I was invited to their wedding in Atlanta.   The spoken language was Portuguese, but the universal language of love was all we needed to feel the love and glory to God that this ceremony brought out in all who attended, including some of his Marine brothers from Camp Lejeune.   Once again I find it hard to express what I feel in my heart for John and his family.   We have stayed in touch and to this day Fatima and I are like sisters though there are miles between us.   John came to visit this summer when he and his Marine brothers met at Arlington National Cemetery to pay their respects to their fallen brothers, of whom there were many....too many.   That visit to see me was a blessing and gave me the opportunity to see how wonderful John looks and catch up on family news.  

Forever I give thanks to God for aligning our paths that day at Dulles Airport.  That we were all there at the same time and were connected by that chance announcement, (again in the words of C.S.Lewis....
"the accident of a topic being raised or not raised at a first meeting)"  is a miracle, wouldn't you say?  

KILTS AND BAGPIPES

 11/14/12

I'm sure after two articles you all know where my heart lies...... volunteering with a local chapter of Marine Corps League/Marines Helping Marines, which gives me the opportunity to visit our wounded Marines on a weekly basis.  The Marine veterans with whom I  make those visits fought in WWII, Korea and Vietnam.    We meet at the hospital on Wednesday mornings wearing our official MCL attire. For me that is a red polo shirt with the MCL/MHM logo and for the gentlemen their red blazers and caps.

These are visits I truly look forward to although the last few weeks there have been far fewer patients on the floor to visit, which is a good thing!!    Not that long ago we would meet and chat with ten or more during our visit but now only one or two, maybe three. Meeting these combat injured Marines is an honor that is hard to put into words.  They share their stories of combat and of how they were injured, their love of the Corps and we are so touched to witness the devotion of their families at their bedsides .  One thing I hear from nearly every one of them is that they wish they were back with their buddies in combat and would go back in a heartbeat if they were able and some will remain active duty, perhaps deploying again.

I want to tell you about one Marine in particular.... Major Richard Burkett, "Trainwreck" to his close friends and brothers in the Corps.
The first time we met he was surrounded by his wife and family but this is not about the details of his injuries, but something altogether different.   We visited Major Burkett every week, and the second or third visit he was finally out of bed, in a wheelchair, and wearing his kilt (displaying his Scottish heritage).     You can imagine the reason for the kilt..... being wheelchair bound it  made certain functions much easier!!    I had to ask if he played bagpipes, since anyone I have ever seen in a kilt did play them.  He told me he was planning to teach himself, which is no easy feat!

  Let me backtrack for a minute.   Our MCL/MHM holds monthly cookouts at Walter Reed for our wounded warriors , their families and their staff from spring to fall.  We have a popular barbecue with a large attendance, an event that everyone  looks forward to each month, rain or shine.   The previous year someone had invited a few members of our local Fire Department Pipe and Drum to play  and that  gave me an idea!   Perhaps this season I could find them and ask them to return for our Major Burkett, as I had a feeling he would absolutely love to have a show just for us!

When I contacted our Fire Department I was overwhelmed  when fourteen members of the Pipe and Drum wanted to perform for our wounded warriors....and they did.  In full dress regalia, kilts and all the the accessories, they gave an hour of their precious time. They wheeled out Major Burkett, formed a circle around him, and played to him while all of us surrounded that circle.  They played many tunes including the Marine Corps Hymn and closed with Amazing Grace.   You can imagine...... there was not a dry eye to be found including our Marine in his kilt.      What an honor to have these dedicated firefighters take an afternoon to be there for us!   Of course we offered them lunch and they were kind enough to show those who were interested how the pipes work, and Major Burkett got a 'hands-on' lesson for which I know he was  grateful.

 It was a very special cookout for all of those who attended.   I find myself with 'sweaty eyeballs' whenever I hear bagpipes.   But this was so much more....it was so personal.........and so generous of them to perform.   I am blessed to say that Major Burkett and his wife Melissa and I have become friends and I hope and pray that friendship will be for all time.   They are a very special family with beautiful children and beautiful Christian beliefs.   They are a Godly family and I am a better person for their being in my life.

MY OLD FRIEND

 11/7/12

There are advantages to working in a shopping mall. However, that was not evident to me until I had been in retail for nearly twenty-five years. Let me backtrack a moment.....The fact that my nephew had enlisted in the Marine Corps back in '02 was the beginning of a completely different mindset for me.....and influenced my interactions with veterans young and old. Though my father served in WWII in the Army, he never spoke of his time in the Philippines. Having a nephew in combat gave me a deeper appreciation for those who serve.

Many veterans wear a baseball-style cap, a 'cover' identifying the branch of military in which they served and where they served. One day an elderly gentleman entered the store where I worked. His 'cover' said WWII Iwo Jima Survivor. Without hesitating I approached him, held out my hand which he graciously shook, and I thanked him for his service. I asked if he would consider sharing his war stories with me and that was the beginning of a very special heartwarming friendship. That man was Sgt Gordon F. Ward. He often came to the mall on errands and we would always meet and I would sit entranced as he shared his wartime experiences, stories that took my breath away. More than one Corpsman died saving his life. (His story can be found in a biography written by his daughter Ana "Uncommon Survivor: From Sand to Bronze". ) How I cherished those visits.

Gordon spent weekends for many years in Arlington VA at the Iwo Jima Memorial sharing those stories with anyone who would listen.... and believe me, they did. Tourists from near and far, civilian and military, were thrilled to meet him and listen to his fascinating and frightening combat experiences. He was there nearly every weekend until his health would no longer allow. Then he and his wife sold their home and moved to an assisted living facility. I continued to visit Gordon, for our visits truly warmed my heart He used to joke with me that were he not married to Carmen he would marry me! His daughter Ana and I always laughed at his harmless flirtations....but he always had a twinkle is his beautiful bright blue eyes....

Gordon's health was failing. In his mid eighties he was becoming frail....but I also knew that the Marines take care of their own, do not let their brothers down and are there for them for as long as they are living. Then as God would have it, a message I sent to the local Marine Corps League brought it all together. Not one or two, but more than ten Marines offered to come visit for a surprise birthday celebration. It is hard to put into words the emotions that were palpable in that room.....a gathering of many residents, some veterans themselves. There were plenty of tears and memories shared. That was June 2010. Two more times the veteran Marines rallied to Gordon's side. Each of those three visits literally gave Gordon a new lease on life. That was the evidence that their 'brotherhood' was real. Gordon passed in June, 2011. Four days later my father passed. I missed Gordon's church memorial service as I was making plans for my father's funeral. I did have the honor of attending Gordon's burial service at Arlington National Cemetery. It was a heartbreaking time for me losing two very unique and special people in my life.

Nevertheless, I have my beloved memories of our hours sitting and talking, my asking question after question. Gordon's recollection of his time at war was flawless, his childhood and his years after serving our country as well. I feel blessed beyond measure that Gordon walked into my store that day and over those few years allowed me to see into his memory one of our most historical Marine Corps battles. He was a proud Marine grunt who lived as a Marine until his final breath.

DESTINY

 10/31/12

Memories are often so clear in my mind that they are not memories at all but the present.

It was 2005. I was making daily visits to Bethesda Navy Medical Center (now Walter Reed National Military Medical Center) to a wounded Marine and his family. That young man is another story for another time. It was the patient in the next room I am recalling now. His name was Steven Diaz, also a Marine. His injuries were severe.....shrapnel from an explosion leaving him with injuries to his head, left leg, right foot, the loss of an eye and traumatic brain injury. Steven was in the hospital for 20 months recovering and rehabilitating.

While there he was awarded the Purple Heart by his Commandant, Gen. John Hagee, which I was honored to attend

along with Steven's parents. I felt so proud to witness this demonstration of respect and appreciation for a wounded Marine. 

Having never been in a hospital setting prior to my visits that spring, it was very unsettling. First, seeing the patients in such horrific conditions......from head to toe.....and of course hooked up to all sorts of monitors. Steven's parents knew no one and I felt blessed to have been there for them in this frightening time to help bring calm with all the confusion around them. There was such fear of the unknown for them....but for some reason God chose me to be there to help calm the storm. At that time I was not aware that it was God who had placed me there......but in hindsight I realized that the many months I spent with the few families I visited had a purpose. Each of those families, and there were several, expressed gratitude that I was there, helping to bring a small amount of peace and comfort in a strange new world of the ICU. So many of those wounded were near death. I will never forget the first moment I stepped into that ICU. It took my breath away at the urgency all around me. A day or two and I felt as if I had been there for years. God gave me the words and the strength to ease the fear in these families and for that I was thankful.

Steven, after being discharged from the hospital, went home to South Carolina. He worked and attended college. But the Lord had plans for Steven too. In 2010 a young Marine and the brother of a high school friend, reached out to Steven. He was suffering with severe Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). Having not served in the military myself and never been in combat nor seen the horrors of war I cannot begin to understand the emotions these young men/women are living with. Mills Bigham committed suicide shortly after reaching out for help. That was the catalyst that brought Steven and his high school friend Anna Bigham together to create a non-profit organization specifically to treat our warriors with 'hidden wounds'........to address the enormous need to treat those psychological wounds that are not evident to those around them. That was 2010. Now Hidden Wounds has become a driving force in the new realm of treating our returning warriors and those who have been home for some time who are suffering from PTSD and TBI. (Traumatic Brain Injury).

My reason for writing this story is that it is one from the past positively influencing the present and the future. I have met quite a few patients at Walter Reed who have expressed a deep desire to educate themselves in order to treat those with 'hidden wounds'. From young lance corporals to majors in the Marine Corps.....so many want to give back. As they struggle with their own illnesses they know that they are the best source of understanding.....someone who has 'been there and done that'. Time and time again I hear that those warriors with such heavy burdens want to unload those burdens but not unless it is with someone who can relate to their pain. Steven and Hidden Wounds are making a difference. After all, that is why we are all here. To make a difference in the lives of our brothers and sisters.

I thank God daily for the gift of opportunity He has given me.

Now that I am retired from work I plan to use that gift in as many ways as I possibly can. Writing about my friends, acquaintances and experiences with our outstanding wounded and their families is one way I can share their stories and my blessings, the highs and lows, but mostly the highs. I have met some remarkable patriots over the last few years at Walter Reed. I hope by sharing this story with you

it is evident how my life has been impacted by their service and sacrifice.