60.

Happy Birtday, Old Man Pops!

I love you!

Veterans.Are.Superstars.

Thank you, Dad! 

You're our superstar!

Free?

image 'The Falling Man'

I was raised in a very patriotic family. My father is the embodiment of a true patriot. And, as the patriarch of the family, we always followed suit. We weren't forced to be proud of our American heritage, in fact, we were always encouraged to express our own opinions (imagine that) and were free to think as we wished. Being in the midst of man like my dad, it was hard not to quietly observe his countenance for the freedom this country has graciously provided us in our lifetimes. He was and still is a very dutiful man. He may not have always WANTED to fulfill his duty (military or otherwise), for fear of consequence or out of protest in the ideology behind the task at hand, but his duty binds him to fulfill something greater than himself.

From his quiet and humble example, I have grown to believe that God Himself gave us the gift, and sometimes the burden, of free will. It is a huge responsibility to have such a gift, and His faith in us to bear it must be surpassed ONLY by our faith in Him for bestowing it.

I count myself among millions, even billions, of lucky souls who not only posses this remarkable benefaction, but who live in a place where we can use it. Freedom does not always accompany free will. And, one without the other is troublesome and contradictory, to say the least.

Eight years ago, a group of individuals who believe differently than I, chose to take the free will AND freedom away from, nearly 3,000 people in the span of a regular work day. Those souls were not given any choice except to decide in an instant or less to surrender themselves to a heavenly end or not to.

One last, fleeting choice.

Free will under a free flag.

And because of a gracious God, and the help of men and women, like my father, that will remain one of the most profound gifts my children and I could ever receive.

Let us not forget...

Wisecracks & Kyrptonite.

Have you ever said something that you knew, without a doubt or sideways glance, was hysterical? Assured yourself that your wit mojo was in full effect for a brief moment in space and time? Is there a particular person who is a mirror of your humor? Someone you can always use as your measure of how successful your wordplay is?

For me, that person is my dad. He is a hard-nosed, stern-faced, stoic sort. But, man, can I tickle his ribs made of stone. He tries not to laugh at my raillery, my gallery of drollery, but the old man can't help it. I can crack that guy like a thin shelled egg at a shooting range.

But, who am I kidding? That little girl in the photo below would be much better kryptonite for my pop's enemies than my lil' ole satirical mind. She gets to him waaaay more than my smart mouth. I say, more power to her. It's about time he met his match.

Later.

Dad.

That's my dad. He is awesome. For lots of reasons. One of my favorites is because he knows when to shut his mouth. The thing with my dad is, you know what he's thinking, what his opinion is, what he would like you to do, but he doesn't drill it at you every chance he gets. I am an adult, who has a mortgage, and a husband, and kids, and pets, all of which I take care of without his assistance. He recognizes that, and lets me make my own decisions, mistake or not. Often times, you can't even read if he's disappointed in what you decided. He just lets it ride. This is nice.

Growing up, he was always a present father. He went on the occasional field trip, all of the volleyball & softball games, was always eager to help with history projects. He was also a concerned father. "Who will you be with, when will you get there, what parents will be there?". He also showed his concern by being the one to ground you when you broke the rules. One time, I took my car out before I got my license, and when I opened up the garage door to sneak it back, he was standing in the middle of the garage (true story). DANG IT! Looking back on it, it's all of that kind of stuff that shows me how much he cares.

He is also strong, and brave, a true patriot. He's even pretty cute. He has given my sister and me a phenomenal example of what a husband should be. Self-sacrificing, willing to compromise, respectful, loving, not afraid to stand their ground if need be. He told us what to seek out in a partner without saying a word on the subject. Leading by example...my dad is really good at this. Sure, he has a short wick and a low tolerance for ignorance in almost any form, but he is good, he is true, he is mine.

I have never doubted my father's love for me. He doesn't say it often, but I really don't need to hear it because I know.

So... I'm thinkin', he must be doing something right.

Love you, Dad!

We love our daddys!

See y'all Monday!

My dad is a bad a**.

Okay, so, I'm going to ask everyone for one second to put their politics and opinions on war aside for, like, the next five minutes or so. Can you all do that? If not, quit reading now, and go about you business. Alright, are we ready? Good.

That's my daddy up there. He is awesome. For lots, and lots, and lots of reasons, but that's a post for a different day. On Friday, he left for a year long tour of Afghanistan. It is his third year-long tour in 5 years or so, his fifth tour during war time overall. He is not in the Army full-time, but is in the Army Reserves. It never gets easier, especially for my momma. Not to mention, my dad will be 60 in November. Wowza! But it is his duty.

Here's where this gets hairy for some...

how can you be expected to fulfill your duty when it means doing something that you don't, necessarily, believe in?

My answer is pretty simple. That's what duty is. It's a moral commitment. It is committing to a cause without thinking about your own interests. Sacrificing. It is about character, and obligation to something greater than yourself.

At the farewell ceremony for my dad's unit, I was struck at the diversity of men and women leaving to serve with my father. Older, VERY young, fathers, mothers, people who have no family (literally), educated, and not. Some looked excited for the adventure to come, some looked like they might vomit (one passed out, seriously). But all united by duty. It was quite profound.

Should our country be in the middle east? I don't know. At one time, my right wingness would have shouted yes, yes, yes. But, it has robbed my family of its patriarch for a total of 3 years, and now, I'm not so sure. We are the policemen of the world, and, agree or disagree, I would hate to imagine what our country or the world would be like without the US assuming the policing role.

What is unseen is, often, quickly forgotten. It is an unfortunate truth. But, I'm asking all of you to NOT forget. I'm putting a picture of my pops in my sidebar. Let this be your quiet reminder to remember him and all of those that serve this great country.

Peace!

Afghanistan.

Afghanistan is stupid. I mean not all of it, of course. The people of the non-terrorist variety, I am sure, are all very lovely. But it's far away, and dangerous. I think danger is always worth mentioning, don't you? I, for one, always consider the level of danger when making any kind of travel plans. My dad, on the other hand, has no regard for danger. He is a loner and a rebel. And... he is going to Afghanistan. Which, after much internal deliberation, I have concluded that Afghanistan is just the sort of place for a loner and a rebel to descend upon. At least it is not as hot as Iraq. Don't get me started on Iraq, don't even get me started.

ps my dad is not really a loner, or a rebel, for that matter. i just like the romance & mystery involved when you say it (try it like pee-wee).

dad: Rose, there are things about me you wouldn't understand, you couldn't understand, you shouldn't understand. I AM going to Afghanistan. I'm a loner, Rosie, a rebel.

mom: I don't understand. (it's okay, mom. none of us do) :(

Godspeed, good sir.