M-M-Memories, like the corners of my mind. Misty water colored memories...
I don't make it a point to quote a left-wing psycho from the Liberal Left Coast, but it is a good song and I even liked the movie. I digress.

Well, today, 6 Jan 04, the first of several retirements took place. Well, actually Dec 19 2003 was the real beginning. But anyway.... I’m doing it again.

I had the distinct honor of presenting the American Flag to the retiree. There was really no formality involved with this. The whole affair was really low key, at the request of the retiree. But when the Flag is involved, formality makes itself present. I found myself getting rather misty eyed at the thought of what our Flag represents. I tried to put into words what the Flag represents. I said (the gathering was at the Olive Garden on Havana and numbered about 30 or so) that the Flag is representative of the nation, Under God, regardless of what the 9th Circuit Court says. It also represents those of us still in uniform and those who wore the uniform before us; especially those paid the ultimate sacrifice. I started getting a little teary towards the end of my impromptu presentation. I realized there aren't too many things that make me so. Well, maybe there are more than I want to admit. But, I think basically they are lumped into three categories (hey this would make a good term paper in college, intro, 3 paragraph body and conclusion): family, country and God.

I started thinking of life as a kid. Remembering that, as I had told my dad lo these many years ago, it is shorter walking to school when you kick a rock! Ah, second graders! Showing your dad that you had learned how to bunt a baseball as he pitched to you in your backyard, and the look of surprise on his face! Remembering the holidays and how my sister and I used to count the number of cars that passed by before our older brother arrived. I carried that tradition on for several years. Remembering being an acolyte at my sister’s wedding and shedding several tears as I moved the kneeler in place for the priest to bless them. Remembering the first and only time my dad took me hunting. That is another story in itself. Remembering my family gathered together to wish me a bon voyage as I left for basic training.

There are many reasons why I first enlisted. I remember talking to my mom and dad about the idea. Dad laughed as he told me that he and mom had discussed that very idea the day before. I wasn’t looking for permission, but this really made the decision easier. In the days after Sept 11, the enlistment rate for the armed forces shot up significantly, due to a sense of patriotism. That was not the reason I joined. I wanted to learn how to do “something”. I wanted to travel. I got both of those and oh so much more. I learned about the sense of patriotism as my career advanced. As I, along with the rest of my unit in Germany, played a role in the beginning of the START treaties in the mid to late 80’s, as I watched in awe of the beginnings of DESERT STORM, knowing that the communications equipment I and the rest of my section maintained played a significant role in what the rest of the world was witnessing. And today, a scant 45 days before I end my career, I now feel I still owe my country “something”. If you haven’t been there, it is hard to describe. It is what this country stands for. It is how this country was founded. It is who our founding fathers and mothers were. It is the sacrifices they made to make us free. It is our country, torn in two by war, only to be rejoined, maybe stronger, maybe wiser. It is our country going to the aide of the countries, 150 or so years earlier our forefathers and mothers fled, showing no hard feelings. We know what you are going through. It is blood spilled on foreign fields. It is those who have never, and may never return home. We remember. It is our sons and daughters fighting tyranny wherever tyranny rears its head when the rest of the world wants to talk. It is the tears of joy shed as a spouse and child greet their other half at the end of a long deployment. It is the tears of sorrow as the flag-draped coffin is solemnly carried off a plane, bearing the body of a fallen hero. This is my country; right or wrong, this is still my country: One nation under God.

I am continually amazed at the lengths some will go to remove the name of God from our midst. But, that is one of the freedoms we (or some) enjoy. But that is a different story. This is about what God is to me and what God has done for me. I remember going to Sterling Correctional Facility for my first taste of Kairos, the prison ministry. I was riding with Janet Fullmer and a friend of hers, whose name escapes me. Anyway, Janet and I were talking about how we had begun our relationships with God and Jesus. Janet’s friend was startled (I think that is a good term). She did not know of a life without God or Jesus. Oh, how that must feel! I can’t imagine what that must be like. But, I count myself blessed. I know both sides of the fence. I know what it is like to live my life by my own rules. I know what it is like to thumb my nose at God, not wanting to admit that every sin I commit is another nail in His hands, another spear in His side, and another bitter drink for Him to swallow.

But I also know what it is like to read, “I will be with you to the end of the age” and realize He is talking to me! I understand that when he heals the sick, give sight to the blind He is saying to me, see what I can do? I will do the same for you. I understand Paul’s conversion. I understand.

This is a couple of days after I started this missive. I now have 43 days left until retirement. I am presenting another flag at yet another retirement luncheon tomorrow. I will try not to get so misty-eyed at this one. I won’t be successful, but the best laid plans of mice and men…. I hope you understand.