Monday, July 24, 2006

patriotism

It wasn't until 9/11 that I really realized just how much I choke up over anything having to do with being patriotic and serving our country and all that. Since then, whenever I say the Pledge of Allegiance or sing the national anthem or see a person in military uniform, I get a lump in my throat and my heart goes out to all the soldiers, past and present, and their families, and just feel an overall sense of pride and honor.

I didn't realize just how much my grandpa did when he served in the Air Force for all those years, finally retiring in 1981 as a Lieutenant Colonel. Among other things, he flew during leaflet missions over Vietnam and could have been shot down several times. My mom and her siblings traveled everywhere with him when he was transferred, and they lived in Okinawa, Japan for a few years. I get to keep some of the things they got while there, which is cool because I've always loved Asian culture and stuff like that. I always have heard that he was in the military and earned lots of medals and stuff, but it really hit home at the funeral, which was really nice, by the way. He was well known and loved; the line of people just kept coming and never stopped during the entire 2-hour viewing the day before. They actually had to lock the mortuary doors so that the rest of those in line could pay their respects and still let us get home in enough time to eat and get some sleep. Then at the funeral, there was a flag on his coffin, which made me cry and I had to look up towards the ceiling the whole time to keep from crying during the musical numbers I participated in. I did pretty well until we got to the gravesite.

Members of his group had already posted the colors (flags) and 7 gunmen were waiting at attention. There was a slight, shocking hitch as we found out that one of the straps that was supposed to lower the coffin into the grave wasn't quite set, the hard way. It fell right in with a horrifying thud that made us all gasp audibly and a couple of my family members were pretty upset. But they pulled it out again with only a few scratches, and they checked later to make sure the body was still in place and everything. We even joked later that he must be laughing hysterically over the whole thing, and that he's just gonna say, "gotcha!" when we meet him up there. Heh. Everything went smoothly after that, and again I cried as they retired the flag to give to my grandma, fired 21 shots, and my uncle played taps. It was really nice, but sad of course. I love and miss him, and my biggest regret is that I didn't get to let him squeeze my hand one more time before he passed. :(

Anyways, thanks for all your kind words from everyone I've talked to. I'm really doing alright; things like this are just sad and it brings me down for a little while. In the meantime, I've got more to talk about tomorrow, when I've had some sleep. I'll explain later.

Thursday, July 13, 2006

sad times

Three years ago this past May, my grandparents, Mom's parents, got in a car wreck on their way home from a trip. My grandma was driving their truck, trying to pass a huge semi, when the semi started to come into their lane without checking its blind spots. At least, that’s what we’ve decided must have happened. Either way, she screeched on the brakes and swerved off the road, and their truck tumbled down a 20-foot embankment before coming to a stop miraculously on its wheels. Grandma was really shaken up and ended up with a few bruised ribs, but Grandpa’s side had completely caved in on him, leaving him pretty messed up. Long story short, he ended up in a care center shortly thereafter and remained unable to walk and barely able to talk until yesterday morning, when he passed away.

A couple weeks ago, the nurses started noticing that he was turning yellow, which means problems with the liver, and there was nothing they could do. So we’ve known for awhile that he was going to leave us, but it doesn’t make it any easier. No words can fully describe how I feel right now. Of course, there are the obvious ones: sad, and yet happy at the same time, because he’s gone but he’s happy now and we’ll see him again and all that. Bu mainly I guess I feel horribly guilty. I was within driving distance the whole time I was up at school in Idaho, and I even had two guys in my ward from Vernal, UT, which is where he and most of my mom’s side lives, and I didn’t make enough of an effort to go see him at all; not once. And partially angry as well, because my mom rented a car and drove up there for a week to spend some time with him, and my dad flat-out would not let me go because I needed to “stay and work, because working and earning money is more important than seeing him in his condition, and he would rather you remember all the good things and blah blah blah…” The funeral is this weekend, and he’s trying to convince me not to go to that, either, for the same reasons. Lame.

There’s also my other complicated situation I could go in to, but since those involved sometimes read my blog, I’ll just leave it at that. I’m just feeling really cranky and lonely. While I respect and will honor your desire to have some alone time, my friend, I will miss your company in the meantime and I wish I knew what it was you have to ponder.