Memorial Day Reflections...

This Memorial Day weekend, like every national holiday weekend, is filled with special news items that are meant to touch our hearts and our minds with the "true meaning" of the holiday. Some are better than others, but this Memorial Day I was deeply moved by one of these "human interest" stories.

It was about a gentleman by the name of Mike Mullen. Mike takes time out of his frenetically busy schedule to make regular visits to Arlington National Cemetery. In particular, he goes to visit the section where the young men and women who have lost their lives in our most recent wars in Iraq and Afghanistan have been laid to rest. He doesn't necessarily know who they are, but that doesn't matter. He kneels down to say a prayer at their graves. When he was asked why, he simply responded that he "has to be here" to honor those who have given their lives in service of our country.

You might be wondering why the name Mike Mullen sounds familiar. It is because he is Admiral Mike Mullen, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the highest ranking military officer in the country. He has been making these visits for many years, long before he rose to such a high office. He makes them because he believes that as an officer he should honor the memory of those who have made the ultimate sacrifice for our nation. He makes his visits in civilian clothes so that he will not attract attention to himself. His visits are a very private, very personal thing. Had it not been for a very observant reporter, we would never have even known about his devotion to our fallen veterans.

This news story really made me start to think. As a former chaplain in the naval reserves, I had the honor of knowing the son of the Admiral who was at that time the Chief of Naval Operations. As a result, I gained an insight into just how incredibly full and demanding the day to day schedule of such a high ranking officer really is. If Admiral Mullen can make time in his busy schedule to visit these graves on a regular basis, where are our elected representatives? If Admiral Mullen can take the time to pay his respects, why can't the members of the House of Representatives stop by and say a prayer, not just once in a while, but once a week? Where are our Senators? Where is the President, the Vice-President, the Cabinet, the Supreme Court Justices? I'm not talking about the fancy, wreath laying ceremonies that get all of the press coverage to score political points in the media. I am talking about putting on your jogging suit, taking your body guards if you have to, and going out to kneel in prayer at the graves of the young men and women who are dying in these wars. Maybe if our government leaders made a few more visits to Arlington National Cemetery it might motivate some new legislation, or change a policy or two here and there, or maybe even have a positive influence on the next big court decision. I don't pretend to have the answers that will bring about an end to war, but I do think we should all make ourselves aware, very, very aware, of the price that is being paid each day that we wait for those answers to be found.

We don't all have the luxury of living in Washington, D.C., but there are National Cemeteries all across the country and, unfortunately, their number is growing. Maybe we can all take some time out of our busy schedules to visit the graves of those who have given their lives for our country. At the very least on this Memorial Day, maybe we can follow Mike Mullen's example. We can take some time away from our barbecues and yard parties, our parades and our celebrations, to visit the local cemetery. Once you're there, look for a government issue gravestone—you can't miss them. Kneel down. Say a prayer. Thank God for the sacrifice that all of our veterans have made in wars past and present. And pray to God that we will have the wisdom and the strength that we need to fight for the rights of our veterans who are returning home, so that they will know by our love and care for them how much we truly appreciate the sacrifices that they have made for our nation.

Have a Happy and a Holy Memorial Day!

Getting Caught Up with my Emails...

My email inbox has become a bottomless pit these past few weeks, so I decided to use part of my day off to get caught up with reading, archiving, and deleting my piled up emails. People forward emails to me all the time, many of which can be very moving or very humorous. I was in the midst of suffering from an acute case of the PLOMs (Poor Little Old Me, that is) due to the ton of email that I was trying to process when I came across this one. I simply had to share it with all of the rest of you who are blessed to have both a dog and a cat in their lives. I hope you laugh as loud and as hard as I did...

Excerpts from a Dog's Diary

Dear Diary,
• 6:00 AM: At last! I Go Pee! My favorite thing!
• 8:00 AM: Dog food! My favorite thing!
• 9:30 AM: A car ride! My favorite thing!
• 9:40 AM: A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
• 10:30 AM: Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
• 12:00 PM: Lunch! My favorite thing!
• 1:00 PM: Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
• 3:00 PM: Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
• 5:00 PM: Milk bones! My favorite thing!
• 6:00 PM: They're home! My favorite thing!
• 7:00 PM: Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
• 8:00 PM: Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing!
• 11:00 PM: Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!

Excerpts from a Cat's Diary

• Day 983 of my captivity. My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength. The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet.
• Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a "good little hunter" I am. Bastards!
• There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of "allergies." I must learn what this means, and how to use it to my advantage.
• Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow—but at the top of the stairs.
• I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released—and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded. The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicate with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe. For now...

There was, unfortunately, no attribution of credit for this incredibly creative and funny piece, so I regret that I cannot give credit where credit is due. But, to whoever you are, thank you for the best laugh I have had in a long, long time!

A Few Days Away with Wiley & Murphy

On Tuesday, May 6th, at 10 AM, I received a call from the kennel where my brother and his wife had put their two collies before leaving for a couple weeks of vacation in England. Murphy, the older dog who just turned 11, had stopped eating and was becoming weaker with each passing day. After consulting with the veterinarian, it was decided that Murphy needed to be brought home to familiar surroundings where hopefully he would start eating again and recover. Realizing that I was the only one with a key and therefore the only one who could take care of Murphy at their house, I worked a 24 hour day through to 10 AM on Wednesday to get all the paperwork done and make all of the necessary arrangements in order for me to leave for a few days. Then I packed my bags, took Wiley with me out to my brother’s house, and brought Murphy home from the kennel. We stayed with him to nurse him back to health until my brother and his wife returned from England on Sunday afternoon. With each passing day he ate a little bit more and regained more and more of his strength. But what really amazed me was the way that my dog Wiley watched over Murphy and helped me take care of him. Everywhere Murphy went Wiley was right there with him. Even when Murphy laid down to rest, Wiley would find a spot right next to him to watch over him and protect him. In the end I think that Wiley did more to help Murphy recover than I did. And as a result of watching the two of them together, I learned a valuable lesson on just how important it is that we simply be there for each other when things aren’t going well. There is no substitute for the presence of loved ones in our lives when we need that extra tender loving care. If our dogs know how to do this, how much more so should we all know the importance of being there for our family and our friends when they need us the most. By Sunday afternoon I realized that Wiley and Murphy had given me something that I hadn’t had been able to get for a long, long time: a few days away to rest and recuperate from some of the stress of my own hectic schedule. As I sat in the yard with them and watched the sun set for the first time in years, I realized just how much I have been missing. In the end, I think they wound up doing more for me than I did for them!