To Our Soldier

It's a beautiful day. Minus the smell/cloud of smoke that has drifted its way down from Canada, I have no real complaints. I woke up this morning to a horrible clanking of noise, known to most as my former high school's pep band. That's one of the bad things about living in a small, picturesque New England town right on Main Street. You are, by default, included in every single holiday celebration. I didn't mind it so much though... it's a far cry from the sound of sirens outside your window every 5 minutes.

As I was hiking this morning I couldn't help but let myself think about my past. The mountain brings the memories of past loves, friends, and laughs. And, in the spirit of Memorial day, I found myself stopping at a passing thought. A good friend. A beautiful young man, both inside and out. And how on this day, instead of being out on the boat fishing and wake boarding like he used to do, he is somewhere in the middle of the desert. Fighting for me to be sitting here in my living room on my computer without caution. How on a day where often you are surrounded by family and friends, he is virtually alone, surrounded by just a handful of American men who are supposed to save his life at any given moment.

A 20 year old man somewhere in Iraq. I have been blessed with the opportunity to talk to him a few times since he has been there. With bad internet connection and a war to be fought, he has little time for facebook, skype, or even phone calls. His pictures literally bring me to tears. A picture of him, nothingness somehow surrounding him. But that nothingness is filled with loss, fear, hope. Those same feelings are overpowering when I think about him. The loss of the chance to talk to my friend whenever I want to. Fear of what he is experiencing, feeling. Hope that he will return to us soon, that the next few months will be his easiest.

So, I guess between the cookouts, the pool, the hikes, the beer, the burgers, we should all take a moment out of our day to think of those who have served for us. To pray for those still serving. And to encourage those who hope to someday serve.

Thanks, Nate. We love you and miss you, come back safe.

And as for the picture, credit goes to him. And yes, that is a bullethole.

You Scratch My Back, Should I Scratch Yours?

Have you ever noticed how easy it is to not think about yourself? Honestly, how many times in a day do you put another before yourself?

The supermarket. My arms are sore and awkward. I'm trying to somehow keep that tower of cans, bags, and boxes that I had collected in my arms from the inevitable. Falling. I was too proud to get a basket or a cart. Or maybe just too naive. Did I know I would see fresh strawberries that I knew I could make into a fruit salad for my dad for the week? Did I know that we had minimal sweets in the house and that my 16 year old brother would complain about it later? Did I really have to pile it all up? Of course I did.

13 items. To me, because strawberries and apples are both fruits, I hop in the express lane. 12 items or less. My heaping mound of groceries is now a chaotic and overwhelming pile of profit on the black belt in front of both me and the very unhappy, clearly misunderstood 15 year old cashier.

Then, a woman behind me. A pack of gum. Why go to the grocery store for a pack of gum? Why not the gas station? Some things I will never understand.

"You know, truthfully I have 13 items..." I look back at her, a smile just barely breaking through on her face, but just for courtesy. "Here, go ahead of me, I'm just a pain."

A real smile. Genuine. A small gesture to completely make a strangers day. A literal portrayal of putting others first. And what did it cost me? A minute or two of my time? Worth it? Check.

Sometimes though, it's not that cut and dry. Waiting for 45 extra seconds at the door of the post office to hold it open for the man taking his time in the parking lot doesn't exactly compare to throwing yourself over someone else while your car is spinning out of control and headed straight towards an Oak tree.

But that's the thing. Maybe it's our instinct to help those around us. Maybe we were all born with this constant need to help others, despite the motivation. It could be because our gene that carries selflessness is just a little bigger than the next persons. Or maybe it's because we long for that fulfillment, satisfaction, or even recognition that we get when we reach out and help someone. Nonetheless, good deeds are a science. Noble and helpful acts are something to be studied. And experimented with? Perhaps.

What if we took a second, went against our gut feelings. Instead of waiting for the man behind you to come through the door, you wait for him to open it for you? Ask for something, don't give it. Tell him how you're feeling, don't make him ask.

As humans, for the most part, it's safe to say we put others first. But should we try every once in a while to put ourselves first? Not stick our neck out even though we feel we should? Keep quiet when we should pipe up just because it'll benefit us a bit more? And the question...

Does the gain from helping others, putting their needs first, overpower the benefit from putting ourselves first? Just how equal are these two concepts?

It Is So Easy To See Disfunction Between You and Me

It's easy to sit here and say that we have it all figured out. That we know we are meant to be where we are. That we can't wait for tomorrow or for all these things we have planned for the future.

As an individual with the need for a calendar, I know I may sound hypocritical. But it's not about not having a calendar. It's about being able to understand and deal with the scratch marks or the eraser shavings that may accumulate over time on the 12 months that are laid out in front of you on paper.

I was bitter before. Some could argue I'm bitter now. A good friend of mine talked to me today and was clearly upset. Her "perfect" boyfriend of a year had broken up with her in the most impersonal way one could imagine. Through a text message. At this point, a post-it note would have been a better substitute. So, today, I listened to my friend tell me how stupid she felt afterwards. But isn't that always how it goes when looking back? What if we make all these plans, make a life for ourselves and then, a year down the road, the only real evidence of what could have been, what you had been planning, is a note buried in a stack of papers. A picture that pops up as a screen saver. A passing thought.

It's scary how quickly we can lose what we're holding onto. A swift wind. A sudden turn. Gravity. All these environmental influences that can make what you have built come crashing down to the floor.

I'm saying something simple. I'm saying don't sit there and say that you have it all. Because who knows... the next morning you could turn around and that beautiful vase that you filled with the most gorgeous flowers could be a heap of glass, petals, and water on the floor behind you. All that work, all that love, could be nothing someday. Lord knows it's happened to most of us in the past. We can claim that this relationship is better than the last, that it's completely different. But, if you think about it, that relationship is still 50% the same because you're responsible for half of it. And that doesn't change. So, when it all boils down, how different is this from before? How is the first different from the last?

I can look into my past objectively. Same mistakes. Same trends. Same me. Case in point.