Tag Archives: patriotism

Patriotism: Teach Your Children Well

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American flag – photo credit Euclid Library

I’ve always been interested in politics.  Well, at least since the summer of 6th grade.  I was visiting my Nanny and Granddaddy and while they were busy running a wholesale nursery business, I watched the national conventions (for both major parties I might add).  All the fanfare of speeches promising to make America better had me hooked. Not that at that time in my life I had strong opinions about what was wrong with my country, but the passion for citizenship was alluring. I have never had an interest in running for office, but I believe the election process is one that we should all teach our children.

I am a product of the Weekly Reader voting booths.  I remember the pomp and circumstance with which the whole experience was created and carried out back in my days at Gentian Elementary School in Columbus, Georgia. The school used actual voting booths (complete with the little patriotic curtains) as we marched solemnly to cast our votes for either Jimmy Carter or Ronald Reagan.  The excitement was palpable even if we were marching silently in straight lines to make our mark on history.

Jumping forward in time, I have always taken my children (even in car seats) to the voting booth with me.  I read each word to them, and we discuss our choices (even though only my vote counted).  I am THAT mom.  The one huddled in the corner of the room so as not to disturb other voters.  This election season one of my children has reached voting age, and I am thrilled he will be exercising his right to do so, which leads to today’s message.

Having formerly lived in primary states, the caucus system was a somewhat new experience for me.  I wish my voting record (including reading ballots WORD FOR WORD to my kiddos) or my re-creation of my childhood voting booth for the last twelve years for my children’s school would be enough alone to speak to my patriotism.  It would not because I would only be fooling myself. The truth is until Reed was twelve I had never participated in a caucus before.

After learning about the caucus process, Reed really wanted to attend and watch (obviously being too young to participate).  For those who knew my red-headed wonder, his passion for a new idea or learning concept had no limits.  In his enthusiasm, he attempted to persuade his Social Studies teacher to offer extra credit to all who attended a caucus of their choice.  In Mr. W’s defense, I think he thought Reed was looking for a few extra points, when in reality he was trying to encourage his classmates to get out and learn.  I don’t know what the final outcome was of those extra points, but I do know that my sweet boy attended his first caucus and was thrilled by the experience.

I didn’t tag along with Reed that year because we had already made plans to have dinner guests that evening.  If I knew then, what I know now, I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.  Reed only lived one more week of life, but that one evening of learning is one that has never left me.  He cared more about what makes this country great than he worried about missing an hour of dinner with great friends.

We need more of that in America.

There are many times in life when the student becomes the teacher.  That night was no different.  I remember his enthusiastic conversation as I picked him up.  He was genuinely proud to be a part of history in the making, agog over the choice he would have made in the straw poll.  I secretly took pride and felt disappointed at the same time.  Proud of my young man for growing up and living out his passion for learning and disappointed that I wasn’t there to enjoy it with him.

So no matter your beliefs or ideologies, think about living out your patriotism for one little red-headed wonder (who would have advocated for extra credit for all of us). Step out of your comfort zone, learn something new, and be a part of what makes America AWESOME!  I know Reed would be proud of my plans for the evening.

Messing with my memories

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Not that long ago, I had lunch with a new-to-the-journey, grieving momma. While this isn’t how I expected my life to go, I am thankful that God has given me a heart that can help others find peace. However, if it were up to me, this would be an exclusive sorority, and we wouldn’t be having any new pledges. Sadly, though there will be other children that pass away, and we will have new members in this club that none of us ever wanted membership.

I am not an expert on grief.   I am just one momma with a prayer that God would give her a heart that breaks like his does. God does answer prayers. Hence my journey of sharing our story and the agonizing aftermath that grief leaves in its wake.

This year our family has chosen joy as our theme word. We are committed to finding joy in our daily lives. Personally, what I didn’t expect in the hunt were the auxiliary truths I would uncover: beauty, creativity, resilience, silliness, simple moments, but mostly, contentment.

“Be careful what you wish for” certainly has its merits as well. Because even though we were in search of joy in God’s plans for our lives, this does not mean that there haven’t been obstacles. Along the way thus far, we have had several moments of sucker punching despair. I mean, lie in the bed for four days and cry despair! The dark place which stays that way until we ask for God to illuminate our path.

Every single time he does.

The journey to joy is a long and twisted one.

Most days are really good days; as it was when I was savoring every bite of my salad with my new friend.

How do you do this?

The simple answer is you just do. This amazing woman of faith needed real answers while her heart was freshly broken, and I really felt led that day to bare my soul, even if it meant to pick a scab off one of the scars of my heart.

You will get through this.

God grieves with you. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but he does.

Experiencing this deep of a hurt has truthfully allowed me to learn to love with abandon.

Eventually we settled back into a comfortable Q & A session about first birthdays and holidays, and then she asked a question that I had forgotten that I had an answer.

How do you get anywhere in this town without driving by a memory?

I stopped mid-bite, my mind transported back to the alternate routes we would drive to avoid seeing places that Reed loved. At six years later, like words written in the sand, my mind completely washed away the sanity saving (albeit not time saving) measures we had taken to avoid the crash site and various other places that were just too hard to endure.

Time had erased that particular pain.

My honest answer was we simply figured out ways to avoid those locations until our hearts told us we were ready to go back again. One grieving momma’s solution was the only response I had to offer.

About a month later, I was driving by one of those memory locations. After a quick look to my right, I felt like the weight of the world tumbled down upon me.

To everyone else in the world, it appeared to be an old forgotten football field replaced a few years back by an event center (in a different location) with fancy turf, not plain ol’ Minnesota sod. The bleachers had been neglected from the glory days of football games, marching band events, and concerts.

Progress often stops for no man . . . nor a momma’s grief. What my eyes espied was no different. Bulldozers and earth movers were ripping apart the ground to create a new regional sports complex.

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My heart hurt because the last Memorial Day he was alive, Reed, Sawyer, and Erin (along with their Scout troops) helped place flags there in honor and memory of every soldier that had been killed in Iraq or Afghanistan. It was a sea of flags.

He was so proud to place one in memory of our local fallen hero.

Later that night, we took our whole family out to reflect before the flags would be removed the next day. I remember him so tenderly kneeling down trying to explain to his two-year-old sister what the flags meant.

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These weren’t just any American flags.  These remembered heroes. These are special.

So was that moment.

The old stadium might have been forsaken, but in my heart, it was hallowed ground.

The progress that will surely make our town even more amazing was messing with my memories. How did I know that I would have a new answer for some distant question about dealing with changes to your memories?

As I sat in my parked car with tears in my eyes, I remembered that God had shone his love in every part of our story thus far. Today would be no different. Although his creation was being changed, my memory of that beloved moment had not.

From here on out, it will be lovingly held in my heart – a safe . . . and joyful . . . place forever.

6 days to go: To God & My Country

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Those who have attended previous Reed’s Runs know of a special ritual that we have each year.  The ritual is the placing of 12 American flags at the beginning of the race course.  Each flag is placed by a veteran that has a special place in our family or in Reed’s life.  We have had every military skirmish since World War II represented in that flag line.  Military operations, such as Black Hawk Down also known as the Battle of Mogadishu, and Desert Storm as well as Vietnam, Korea, and Iraq/Afghanistan are represented.  Seeing those 12 beautiful flags flying is one of the highlights of the day for this veteran’s wife.

Most do not know the background behind the significance of that simple recognition and placing of those flags.  Twelve flags – one for each year Reed lived – mark the path for the runners for the beginning and the finish of the race course.  The decision to continue this tradition each year has been because of an oath that Reed pledged at Boy Scouts.

The Boy Scout Oath

On my honor I will do my best
To do my duty to God and my country
and to obey the Scout Law;
To help other people at all times;
To keep myself physically strong,
mentally awake, and morally straight.

Reed’s faith is something that has been a core memory at each run, but his love of country is lesser known.  Reed was so proud of his dad, a veteran of Operation Desert Shield and Operation Desert Storm.  He took pride in his dad’s service, and he went out of his way to thank men and women in uniform.  It’s just something we do in this family.  But he took his love a little bit farther than most his age.

He was fully aware of some of the protests throughout our world, and he wasn’t opposed to the right to assemble.  He never minded when groups protested war, but it was a different story when people protested soldiers.  Then it was personal.  Reed was fully aware of the reception his adopted grandpa and football coach received when he returned from Vietnam.  He was equally aware of how much of a sacrifice military personnel make for each of us.  Protesting soldiers simply just made him mad.  We once had to practically sit on him when we accidently drove in the midst of a protest in Mankato and we were jeered because we were in a vehicle with veteran’s plates.  After that moment, Reed simply asked us to avoid any protests because it was too upsetting.

He wanted the whole world to understand that “no greater love hath a man than to lay down his life for his friends.” John 15:13 (ISV) He knew that the bench that sits at Lakeview school on the way to the Memory Garden wasn’t there to be pretty.  It represented a real Lakeview Laker. A real soldier. A real man. A real husband. A real son.  The bench is memory of Jason Timmerman.  Reed followed the story in school of how the street in front of the armory in Marshall was to be changed from Armory Drive to Timmerman Drive.  Every day, EVERY DAY, until I was almost exhausted from doing it, Reed begged and pleaded with us to drive by there until that sign was up.  He just had to see it.  When it finally changed, he was PROUD.

It is so easy to take something for granted, especially something as insignificant as a piece of cloth.  Not for those of us who understand that lives have been changed for that piece of cloth.  A whole lot of love and sacrifice and honor and duty are wrapped up in her waving beauty.  In one of his sweetest moments, Reed got down on his knee and explained to his baby sister when she was only 2 years old what a sea of flags represented at Mattke field.  In reality, each flag represented a life lost in the Iraqi war.  But in his own sweet way, he told Cloie that the flags were special because each one of them were about someone who loved her.  I would have to say that he was right.