Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving. . . a couple of days late! I've been in Missouri at my sister's house and have had a good vacation with family. Thanksgiving is quickly becoming a favorite holiday of mine. I feel as if it is one of the few American holidays that is left virtually untouched by the pressure to buy, buy, buy. Instead, we focus on eat, eat, eat. . . and perhaps a little bit of thanks, thanks, thanks.

This Thanksgiving I have much to be thankful for. My life is abundantly rich and I can count so many blessings. Yes, there are difficult times but if anything, I have learned over the last year that to be thankful while in the midst of difficulties helps keep my values and priorities in check. And I really do feel more blessed as I remember all that I have been given.

A few weeks ago I made a card for Rich that listed all of the things that I am thankful for this season. It was a good inventory. It listed people in my life, opportunities I have had, my health, computer technology, and several miracles of nature. Of course on the top of that list was Rich and all that he has added to my life. But I will save that sap for my letters I send to Rich. No need to go on gushing right here. Instead I will share the memories from Thanksgiving 2004 for which I am thankful:

Hugs from two beautiful nieces: Kira and Grace. They are growing up fast and I treasure the time that I get to spend with them as they grow.

One-on-one time I got to spend with Kira. We went shopping. I introduced her to Limited too, sales, and clothes that might make her mother cringe! I love being an Aunt!

Conversations with my mother and my sister. Sure we tease my mom about genealogy, but I am thankful for my mother's sense of history, family, and tradition. I will carry it on.

My sister doing a fabulous job preparing the bulk of the Thanksgiving meal. . . and doing it with such humor while sick. Singing into the Turkey leg as if it were a microphone was a bonus.

Going to the ARC. . . .an indoor pool of sorts. . .actually I would call it an indoor water park. What a great place for families. Thanks for letting me swim a few laps, Mark.

Meeting the new dog, Dora. Makes me want to get a dog of my own.

All good things this Thanksgiving: Family, food, crazy kids, dogs running around. This is what holiday's are about!

Veterans' Day

Happy Veterans Day and Marine Corps Birthday to all of you out there! This day for me has a bittersweetness to it. With Rich in Iraq and my Dad (a former marine) no longer with us, I feel a sense of pride mixed with melancholy on this day. In the last 10 years while living in Florida, my father returned to his military roots and with that came the celebration of the Marine Corps birthday, all of the songs, honor, and bonds of brotherhood too. I began seeing a face to the US Military I had not known before, or at least had never been that close to home. November 11th was a big day for my Dad and his buddies and they would go to great lengths to throw some legendary parties. . . among the retired community anyway.

And now, in the last eight months, a year and a half after my father's passing, the US Military is again playing a role in my life. A new face of the military has shown itself to me. This time it is in the face of the man I will marry. (Geeze, you think Freud have something to say here?). Rich is in the Army and stationed in Baghdad. A recent veteran, he is working with the people of the city to bring about peace, change, and perhaps a bit of democracy. He is showing the Iraqi citizens a strong but gentle face to the US Military. A face that I fell in love with. How can they not do the same?

So today, I am sad. I miss these two veterans who have had such a powerful impact in my life. Today I am humbled at the commitment both my father and Rich have made to serve this country, protect our freedoms, and strive to make the world a better, more just, more free place. But today I am also glad. I am glad to know these men like I do. I am honored that I can understand our country, our ideals, and even our hang-ups a bit more through these faces and the sides of the military they have shown me. And I am proud. I am proud of who these men are, what they have done, and what Rich continues to do. The legacy is a powerful one.

I was reminded of that legacy just last week as I went to DC for a conference. While there, I took some time to venture out on a solo "War Memorial Run" on the Mall. During my run, I made it a point to visit the various memorials and monuments that cluster that area. The better-known ones being: Vietnam, Korea, and now World War II. During my run, I did stop to soak in the monuments, to pay my respects, and to somehow honor those who have served throughout our history (at least our modern history). I was moved to tears at the WWII memorial. The memorial itself is impressive. But what got me most was watching the older generations come to the memorial with such reverence and pride. I saw veterans in their ball caps that marked which destroyer they were on or which platoon they were a part of roll down the ramp with their walkers. I saw husbands with their wives. I saw grandparents with their grandchildren. I saw fathers with their sons. I saw men and women who served attempt to remember and reflect on what the war meant to them. I saw these veterans attempt to pass on their experience and their emotion to the others with them. Little did they know that they were passing a part of that legacy on to me, a bystander, too. Yet I am also beginning to realize that I am not as much a bystander as I once thought I was.

I am part of the legacy. Through my father, through Rich, and through the hundreds of thousands of men and women who have served in our past and who are serving right now. It is through your faces that I have come to know my country better and even come to know a bit more of myself.

I miss you, Dad. I celebrate the Marine Corps birthday with you. Semper Fi! I miss you Rich. Happy Veterans' Day. You make me and countless others back home proud. Be good to somebody over there (as I know you will). I look forward to running (or walking, depending on our age) the monuments with you and doing our part to pass this legacy on.

SNOW!

Well, winter is here. I am looking outside my window and all I see are white flecks of snow falling from the sky. My reaction: I am sooooo not ready for this. Here is a case in point story about the start of Ithaca's first snow-fall day.

I was slow to wake up and head to work this morning. Nothing new there. I did notice a light snow covering on the ground through my window. Great, snow. I thought. Winter has finally arrived. But what really got me this morning was deciding what to wear. I was really in a jeans and sweatshirt mood (given the weather), but I couldn't justify a casual day on Tuesday. So, I dressed in a fall favorite outfit of mine. . . a comfortable yet professional jumper, hose, and heals. I was ready to go.

Walking out the door, I slipped on some of the ice/snow accumulating on the stair. My brown shoes are not good shoes in the snow. "What was I thinking wearing this fall outfit on such a winter day?" I thought to myself. But I trudged on, "I'm not gonna get a little bit of snowfall get me down." But as I approached my car, a completely new thought entered my mind. My car was blanketed by 1 inch of fresh snow. Somehow, the ground managed to melt a good amount of the accumulation, but my car kept it fresh and piled high. Prepping my car was gonna take some work this morning.

Still thinking optimistically, I brushed off some snow so I could open my door, get inside and start my car. Old Faithful, 100,000 miles and going strong, started right up; no problem there (see last post). I switched on my windshield wipers thinking I could brush away the snow with a simple swoosh. A little snow, no problem. But boy, was I wrong. There was ice under that snow! This was going to require more work than what I was expecting and what I was prepared for.

The humorous part of all of this was that my industrial strength ice scraper/brush was most likely in the trunk of my car. . . . under piles and piles of junk that over the last few months I have let build up in my car. Getting this scraper. . my only one. . . was not going to be an easy task. Plus, even opening up the trunk with the inch of snow on top of it was going to be a snowy, wet process. "This is just not gonna happen today," I thought. I was unprepared for weather like this today. So, instead, I started my car, turned on the defroster/heat on high and went back inside. "No scraper, no problem," I told myself.

When inside, I sadly went back to my room and changed into a more practical "snow day" outfit. Wool sweater, turtleneck, and pants: the third outfit of the day. 10 minutes later, I walked out of my apartment a bit more prepared. The snow was starting to melt around my windshield. I did a minimal bit of snow clearing before I got into the warm interior of my car. And as I pulled out of my driveway I chuckled to myself. I realized that winter was here, like it or not, and I needed to start acting like it. First item of business, clean out the trunk of my car and find that ice scraper.

A milestone

100000!
Originally uploaded by BlockHD57.

Every so often, those milestones in life happen and you want to record them for posterity. A personal milestone happened yesterday. My car, my first car that I ever owned outright, hit 100,000 miles! Now that is something that doesn't happen every day. So, here is a picture and an entry in my blog to lock this occasion into my vault of memories.

My trusty Honda Accord turned to 100,000 while I was driving home from a conference in Washington DC. I was on I-95 outside of Baltimore to be exact.

Now you have to understand that while driving, I get caught up in the numbers game and the odometer reading. I look for those occasions when there is a fun pattern of numbers, or when I hit a special number on the drive itself.

For instance, during long drives I make things more exciting by having 100-mile parties. These parties usually involve honking the horn, playing a special song full blast on the radio, or treating myself to a candy I have stashed in my bag. The larger the number, the bigger the party (just ask Kathryn what we did for our 500 mile party while road tripping to Vanderbilt our senior year of college). So you can imagine how big a party I wanted to have for such a large number this time around.

A toot of the horn, a picture while driving (ok. . . I know, not really safe to do. . . but I was only going 70!) a call to my sister. . . and a stop for fries and a shake soon after. But also with this little celebration I thought about the bigger picture.

This little occasion has helped me reflect and realize that I have taken this little car of mine for granted over the years. 100,000 miles and running fine. A dream car for me: low maintenance. Truly amazing when I think about it. Very rarely has this car given me angst, robbed my wallet, or prevented me from going about my normal day and my normal driving routine. Nor do I see that changing any time soon. 100,000 miles and going strong.

Thank you little car.

Election Day

Happy Election Day! Or should I say, "Happy Election Month"? From the sounds of it, we might have another long battle to determine our next president. And that means MORE politics, pundits, and opinions, and way too much press coverage. I want the madness to stop. . . . no more coverage of what Bush said and then what Kerry said in response to Bush. MAKE IT ALL GO AWAY!

In effort to make the election coverage go away, I did my civic duty and went to vote earlier today. I had heard rumors that people were waiting in 1/2-hour lines in Ithaca at 8:00 AM. I was voting close to 10:00. My polling place was relatively quiet when I entered. No person or people standing outside with last minute campaign slogans, no one questioning my right to be there and if I was really registered to vote, and no one taking exit polls. Guess New York isn't that news worthy, huh?

I waited a total of 4 minutes from the time I stepped into the building to the time I went into the booth. There were three people in front of me. There was one voting booth in the whole place-- the old-fashioned kind with the levers. It felt so retro/nostalgic to be using a voting booth as opposed to computer ballots or punch cards. With this machine on hand, I had good confidence that my vote was going to be counted. I did notice too, that there was a 3-minute time limit that I could be in the booth. No eenie-meenie-minnie-moe to help me make decisions on the lesser items on the ballot. That would take too long.

I will admit, that I did find myself getting a bit misty-eyed as I was waiting in line and soaking in all that the 4 minutes held. I felt empowered. I felt proud that our country votes the way we do (despite all of its problems). I was happy that things were civilized, peaceful, and that my vote really does matter. My mind went to Rich being in Iraq, serving our country, and attempting to help a new population of people come to love democracy as much as we do . . . or at the very least encouraging them to give it a try.

I also was witness to a citizen educating a foreigner just how we do things over in the US of A. My guess is that this woman is an international student at Cornell and he was somehow her professor, mentor, or older and wiser friend. She watched him sign his name and then went into the booth with him. Less than three minutes later, they walked out of the booth with smiles on their faces. I think he let her pull the lever that opens the curtain at the end. That's my favorite part, anyway. To know at that moment, when your hand is on the lever and you hear the curtain open and the levers reset, you then know that you have spoken to the rest of the country, to the rest of the world how you would like to see the next four years. Yes, my voice and all I have to say is reduced to a few names on a ballot, and half of the country may not listen anyway, but some people don't even get that much.

And you know what, I was smiling when I left the booth too.