Hi, My Name Is Speaker

Well, today was one of those "good for the self esteem" days. It was Career Day at the elementary school. Barry and I get invited every year. I think he is the one they really want (because the recruiters give him lots of goodies to hand out) and I get asked so I don't get my feelings hurt!

He and I signed up for the whole day, and both had the opportunity to go to Daniel's class. I got to sit in on one of Barry's presentations, and the kids just LOVED him. He let them try on all kinds of gear and had them engaged in questions. In fact, I had to prompt him when his time was running out. I do have to admit that it is a great feeling when the kids see you walk in and yell, "Daniel's mom!!!" I did learn a few things. The most important is never to ask a group of first graders if they have ever had a broken bone. EVERYONE has a story about a broken bone or something, and you have to listen to them all.

I did get on my soapbox with the kids, and I pray it made an impact on them. I talked about why you should never make fun of someone who has a disability or disfigurement. Their little faces were very serious as they listened. I told them they'd be very surprised at what kids with disabilities can do. I told them about blind children reading with their fingers, about Miracle League Baseball, and wheelchair basketball games at Johnson Park. They were amazed. One fifth grader asked how she could volunteer with Miracle League.

Now, why did I title this post the way I did? When I visited a Kindergarten class, the children had been told they'd have a speaker. When I walked in, the teacher said, "Here's our speaker!" After school Barry and I stood outside waiting for Daniel. As that Kindergarten class passed by, they all waved and said, "Bye, Speaker!"

MEDIC!

"It'll be a babysitting job. Piece of cake," said my C.O. I had been through IET,and the only thing we needed a medic for the entire time was a blister. I took my stationary to write a couple of letters and my cot and pillow. I'd go to bed when they called for lights out, and hibernate until they woke everyone up the next morning.

Ha ha.

My list sounded like a recipe or a twisted version of the 12 Days of Christmas.

• four screwy blood pressures
• three funky feet
• two fainting soldiers
• one scary migraine

The list went on. I think I had to write up 12 incident reports. I watched over one guy with a migraine all night. I ended up in the middle of a yelling match with him and the 1SG. I got his guard duty shift switched to the last one at 0430 so he could try to sleep off the headache, and left instructions with the Sergeant of the Guard to wake me when that shift started so I could watch the guy. He did his watch, but he looked like a staggering drunk sometimes. Then I didn't even get to eat my breakfast, as everyone decided that was a wonderful time to get sick or have medical issues. For about 1 1/2 hours I had at least two soldiers to tend to at the same time. Once I had one in a chair with ice on her ankle in one corner while another with a scary high blood pressure and a face as red as a tomato was at a table with one who was pale and felt faint, while I was in the men's room with my migraine patient, who was throwing up and compaining of shortness of breath and tunnel vision. I was very happy to see my CO come through the door, and I quickly briefed him on my 2 biggest concerns. He went to check on the one in the potty while I rechecked the blood pressure. We ended up sending both out to the hospital.

When he was leaving, the boy with the migraine asked if I was coming back next weekend. I said I didn't think so. He told his father and my CO both that I was the only medic he trusted and that I had looked after him all night. I also heard my CO and the commandant of the school telling the brigade commander that I had done a great job. The commandant said he'd welcome me back anytime as his medic.

I have to admit that it was nerve-wracking at times this weekend. I just prayed that I would not have to use my training, but if I did that God would help me do what was necessary. Even though I hate to be away from my family, I'd take the next weekend if asked.

I Should Be Asleep

This is what I get for staying up too late. Daniel asked me to read a couple of chapters in the book his class is reading so I could help him answer a homework question he was struggling with. Well, I read the chapters he was talking about, but couldn't stop there. I read the whole book, The Bridge to Terabithia. It was one of those stories that catches you up in it and you just have to read it. Not to spoil it for anyone who may be going to see the new movie, but I like happy endings. In my little world, the good guy wins, the hero gets the prize, and the princess gets to ride off into the sunset with him. So, I can't truly see why they have a bunch of 8 year olds reading a story that deals with the death of a child.

Like I said, it is a beautifully written book. But of course it made me cry. It just made me think about so many things...things from my own childhood that are gone. My Mawmaw had a little storage room just off her room that she kept blankets and quilt tops and fabric in. I miss playing with my cousins there. We'd burrow through the cloth and play in secret hideouts in there for hours, even when the temperature was hot enough to bake bread in there in the summer. The last time I saw that room was after Baby Jim died. The house was stripped bare by the time I got to go in there, and that little room was so pitiful with it's broken, sagging floor. I think about the quilts she made. They were so beautiful! I helped her hang some out for a yard sale one time, and people stopped by the car load to see them. She made a quilt for her granddaughters when they got married, but she died before she got to make mine. I did get one of the quilt tops, and started quilting it myself. But when our house burned in 1997, all but a small piece of that quilt burned too. I have what's left in a ziploc bag in the top of my coat closet, but haven't looked at it for years. The old house is still standing , but it's not in our family anymore. My boys won't grow up there like I did, smelling the delicious food in the kitchen, playing on the big rock, and running around in the woods. The woods aren't even there anymore! There are a million houses being built there, and the pasture next door is covered up with them too. I remember one morning when I was a kid when Mr. Louis' cows all got out and were wandering around Mawmaw's yard and the road. Gibo was out there with his cane helping shoe them back where they belonged. I was out there too, getting them out from behind the house and helping get them back down the street. It was great!!! I miss the orange lillies that grew right behind the house, and the two big old trees that made an island we rode our bikes around. The two huge oaks are still there in the front yard, but the house is for sale again, and I'll bet the old place and the fields will soon be another matchstick neighborhood. Those fields had the best dirt though! Watermelons flourished there when Daddy and his brothers used to plant them, and my own little garden did well there. I wanted to grow things after I lost Daddy, and Baby Jim had Joey plow me up a spot. I'd garden a while, then go in and sit with him a while. All the years I watched football with Baby Jim and I'm still clueless about the game! I really just wanted to sit with him and eat ice cream out of the same container with two spoons, not care about what was actually on the TV. Easter is coming up soon, but it just isn't like it used to be. The whole family would come and fill up the house, porch, and yard. The food was so good, and we'd all hunt eggs and play out all day. It never seemed to rain on Easter Sunday. Now Mama and I cook at her house. I make the dressing, but it isn't Mawmaw's. We hide eggs for the boys and we all play in the yard for a while. Even home isn't the same though. I used to stand in the front yard and look across at fields and fruit trees. Now police cars zoom up the road and the fields are now a giant subdivision full of people who just don't care.

Know what I'd like? I'd like to hear Daddy's truck pulling up in the yard. I'd like to see Baby Jim at the races, calmly standing at the pit wall watching the cars go around. I'd like to set up cans in the woods with Daddy and Gibo for target practice. I'd like to climb around in the barns at Uncle Dan and Aunt Annalou's farm, and drink some of that ice cold water from their well. I'd like some of Aunt Ruby's biscuits. I'd like to smell the toast Mawmaw buttered for me in the mornings, and have her make me a strawberry cake for my birthday. I'd like to watch Daddy cooking on the grill, and see Mama happy like she used to be.

I guess I live too much in the past. Oh, but I have such wonderful, vivid memories. I have a husband who indulges me in my crazy whims and ideas, and wonderful boys to play with. True, they can't do some of the things I loved to do as a kid, but we can have fun. They love the stories of how things used to be, just like I did. And they still have grandparents, great-grandparents, aunts and uncles, and cousins to enjoy. And I have a warm home, and a fluffy pillow, and a sleeping husband who loves me dearly waiting just down the stairs. I've had my pity party, used a bunch of Kleenex, and have red eyes like some wino. But I also had another trip to the past full of people I love - that I know still love me from heaven. Goodnight and sweet dreams.