Dear Senators Obama and McCain,

Today I handed over my niece to Uncle Sam and the United States Army.

There were tears shed, some tears long after we said our goodbyes. Tears of joy, because she is fulfilling a dream of hers; a dream that began long before she came to stay with me. Tears of sadness, because I will miss her. She has been such a help to me the past few months, so much so I’m willing to (almost) overlook the moments of teenager-ness that just about drove me crazy. Actually, I am willing to overlook it. She has become a responsible young lady, and today ends one journey and begins another. Her journey. Her life.

I know the military will shape her and mold her into a responsible adult; an adult that will make good decisions and continue her education. She will come back on leave a buff and toned young lady. A stronger person. A Woman.

A Soldier.

She will make you proud. She has done that and more for her friends and her family already. She had this dream, this goal, and many helped her reach her goal. She guided us though, reminded us that she knew what she wanted, and knew just how to go about getting it. It took guts and determination, but she has arrived.

She’s ready. We’re ready. We’re a little weepy, but we are ready.

I know we are in a bit of a financial crisis right now, but I ask both of you to not forget those who are fighting overseas, fighting this war that has (I feel) helped land us in this financial crisis. Don’t forget about those brave men and women that need to come home to help their families weather this new storm brewing right here at home. Please work on our exit strategy. Please bring our troops home.

In the meantime, there’s a new Private that is going to make a damn good soldier. Wherever she may go. That’s a promise.

Thank you.

We’ll Remember

Uncle Tony,

Let me begin by saying we miss you. Our pain is palpable, and very real. Right now we live moment to moment, remembering each second of time we spent with you last, wondering if it was enough to sustain us for the rest of our lives; yet knowing it simply has to. Photographs right now make us cry, seeing the jacket you sent your nephew while you were in Vietnam reminds us of your love, no matter where you were.

We need to hold on to that for awhile.

We know you are happy where you are now. We know you have a birds eye view of all of us, and will let us know in your own special way when we can do better, or be better, or come together. You will be everywhere, no longer staying in one spot; having to split yourself between family scattered all over the place.

We’ll remember your chocolate sauce and keep the family recipe alive. We’ll make schmearcase and remember your special ingredient. We’ll keep alive camping out inside with smores in the fireplace and stories.

Oh, the stories. We’ll tell them. We’ll tell them all.

Thank you for everything.

If you happen to run into a beautiful, skinny woman named Bobbie with a french twist in her hair; that’s my mom. She’ll make sure to show you the best spot to keep an eye on us. She’s our angel.

Thank you for blessing us with your patience, your kindness, your love.

We’ll remember, I promise.

We love you.

Love,
The Hubby, Shash, Spiff, and Scamp

The Worst Best Birthday Ever

Today my son turned 14. He declared it “the best birthday ever!”

Today our favorite uncle died suddenly. We are, to say the least, blindsided. We spent the day trying to hold it together while making sure our son had his day.

We’re still trying. We’ll tell him and his brother tomorrow. We’ll remember the last time we saw him. We’ll remember this:

More later. Right now we need to tell the kids.