Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
A Military Christmas....
2437 miles from home, from mom, brothers, sisters, neices and nephews. 3766 from my husband and father to my kids. 5 months down, 3 to go. nixon's birthday, halloween, thanksgiving, christmas/noah's birthday, new year's, kaylen's birthday, 5 year wedding anniversary.... all not celebrated as a family... all seperated by the sea.
In a typical family this is the time of year where families get together and open gifts, give hugs, take pictures and make memories. In my family, this is the time of year that we order more customs declaration forms, buy more packing tape and wrap even the stocking stuffers so that "when daddy opens it, he will be surprised." I hustle to the post office with the kids in tow, so that I can stand in a line and send out my packages to an FPO address with "MA3 POTTER, KAYLEN COLE" on the front. The people in the post office have seen us so often in the last 5 months they know my kids names.
Do I regret the situation that my family is in this year and throughout this holiday season? No. Do I miss my husband and best friend? Yes. Would I change anything? No. All of our families will be together in one way or another this holiday season...except for my own. Please remember that when you are sitting down around the tree opening gifts with the kids or whoever you may be with... remember the hundreds of families that are just like my own. The families with parents overseas protecting our freedoms. Giving us the right to celebrate Christmas as we please. Remember those soldier's and that they have families back home that are alone during the holidays, trying to make sure the kids and everyone else is taken care of. Remember them... to add them to your prayers and thoughts. We don't want to be
forgotten when the rest of the family gets together.
A Soldier's Christmas
Twas the night before christmas,
he lived all alone,
in a one bedroom house made of
plaster and stone.
I had come down the chimney
with presents to give,
and to see just who
in this home did live.
I looked all about,
a strange sight i did see,
no tinsel, no presents,
not even a tree.
No stocking by mantle,
just boots filled with sand,
on the wall hung pictures
of far distant lands.
With medals and badges,
awards of all kinds,
a sober thought
came through my mind.
For this house was different,
it was dark and dreary,
I found the home of a soldier,
once I could see clearly.
The soldier lay sleeping,
silent, alone,
curled up on the floor
in this one bedroom home.
The face was so gentle,
the room in such disorder,
not how i pictured
a United States soldier.
Was this the hero
of whom I'd just read?
curled up on a poncho,
the floor for a bed?
I realized the families
that I saw this night,
owed their lives to these soldiers
who were willing to fight.
Soon round the world,
the children would play,
and grownups would celebrate
a bright Christmas Day.
They all enjoyed freedom
each month of the year,
because of the soldiers,
like the one lying here.
I couldn't help wonder
how many lay alone,
on a cold Christmas Eve
in a land far from home.
The very thought
brought a tear to my eye,
I dropped to my knees
and started to cry.
The soldier awakened
and I heard a rough voice,
"Santa don't cry,
this life is my choice;
I fight for freedom,
I don't ask for more,
my life is my God,
my Country, my Corps."
The soldier rolled over
and drifted to sleep,
I couldn't control it,
I continued to weep.
I kept watch for hours,
so silent and still
and we both shivered
from the cold night's chill.
I didn't want to leave
on that cold, dark, night,
this guardian of honor
so willing to fight.
Then the soldier rolled over,
with a voice soft and pure,
whispered, "Carry on Santa,
it's Christmas Day, all is secure."
One look at my watch,
and I knew he was right.
"Merry Christmas my friend,
and to all a good night."
USAF Lt Col Bruce Lovely wrote this poem Christmas Eve 1993 while assigned to US Forces Korea
In a typical family this is the time of year where families get together and open gifts, give hugs, take pictures and make memories. In my family, this is the time of year that we order more customs declaration forms, buy more packing tape and wrap even the stocking stuffers so that "when daddy opens it, he will be surprised." I hustle to the post office with the kids in tow, so that I can stand in a line and send out my packages to an FPO address with "MA3 POTTER, KAYLEN COLE" on the front. The people in the post office have seen us so often in the last 5 months they know my kids names.
Do I regret the situation that my family is in this year and throughout this holiday season? No. Do I miss my husband and best friend? Yes. Would I change anything? No. All of our families will be together in one way or another this holiday season...except for my own. Please remember that when you are sitting down around the tree opening gifts with the kids or whoever you may be with... remember the hundreds of families that are just like my own. The families with parents overseas protecting our freedoms. Giving us the right to celebrate Christmas as we please. Remember those soldier's and that they have families back home that are alone during the holidays, trying to make sure the kids and everyone else is taken care of. Remember them... to add them to your prayers and thoughts. We don't want to be
forgotten when the rest of the family gets together.
A Soldier's Christmas
Twas the night before christmas,
he lived all alone,
in a one bedroom house made of
plaster and stone.
I had come down the chimney
with presents to give,
and to see just who
in this home did live.
I looked all about,
a strange sight i did see,
no tinsel, no presents,
not even a tree.
No stocking by mantle,
just boots filled with sand,
on the wall hung pictures
of far distant lands.
With medals and badges,
awards of all kinds,
a sober thought
came through my mind.
For this house was different,
it was dark and dreary,
I found the home of a soldier,
once I could see clearly.
The soldier lay sleeping,
silent, alone,
curled up on the floor
in this one bedroom home.
The face was so gentle,
the room in such disorder,
not how i pictured
a United States soldier.
Was this the hero
of whom I'd just read?
curled up on a poncho,
the floor for a bed?
I realized the families
that I saw this night,
owed their lives to these soldiers
who were willing to fight.
Soon round the world,
the children would play,
and grownups would celebrate
a bright Christmas Day.
They all enjoyed freedom
each month of the year,
because of the soldiers,
like the one lying here.
I couldn't help wonder
how many lay alone,
on a cold Christmas Eve
in a land far from home.
The very thought
brought a tear to my eye,
I dropped to my knees
and started to cry.
The soldier awakened
and I heard a rough voice,
"Santa don't cry,
this life is my choice;
I fight for freedom,
I don't ask for more,
my life is my God,
my Country, my Corps."
The soldier rolled over
and drifted to sleep,
I couldn't control it,
I continued to weep.
I kept watch for hours,
so silent and still
and we both shivered
from the cold night's chill.
I didn't want to leave
on that cold, dark, night,
this guardian of honor
so willing to fight.
Then the soldier rolled over,
with a voice soft and pure,
whispered, "Carry on Santa,
it's Christmas Day, all is secure."
One look at my watch,
and I knew he was right.
"Merry Christmas my friend,
and to all a good night."
USAF Lt Col Bruce Lovely wrote this poem Christmas Eve 1993 while assigned to US Forces Korea
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