He is America's Son

Sgt. Bales

It’s time to pick our jaws up off the ground. Stop being so shocked that our active duty troops are falling apart and find a way to help them.  

This last week when the news came out about Sgt. Bales, the soldier accused of killing 17 Afghan civilians, (many of them children, and for no apparent reason) sent shock waves around the world. But I was not that surprised. Sickened and saddened- but not surprised.

The first thing I did was go to my facebook page to see what my fellow Marine parents had to say about this. Oddly enough- they were mostly silent save for a few that were immediately fearful for the lives of the troops having to deal with justifiably angry Afghans in the aftermath.  I thought to myself- maybe they all know in their hearts- this could be one of our kids. What could we say?  How should we feel?

I admit my perspective is skewed after all these years as a Marine Mom. After reading thousands and thousands of news articles regarding the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, after receiving 5000 plus US troop death notifications from the DOD in my in box- and after reading everything  ever written about PTSD- yes my perspective is probably not like most peoples.

I work and live in ultra-liberal anti war Marin County. I try not to discuss issues of war with anyone. To me it is personal, war is personal it’s not a theory or a political stance- it’s what my son and his friends have experienced up close and in person. It’s what all my fellow Marine families, and Army families have experienced.  I am very war weary myself. I am not a gung-ho war monger. (I don’t know any mom that is)  I would like nothing better than to see us out of these Arab wars for once and all- but I would like to see us end it without destroying what good we have done and without destroying the sense of duty that our troops have felt over the last 11 years. Without creating more “Vietnam” style vets- that came home to hostile territory, that were told they fought a war that was pointless- that were told they lost arms, legs, eyes, hearing and moral bearing for nothing. There are vet’s that spent years trying to recover and many never did- they still live under bridges, in the woods, on the streets, trapped in crazyville and unable to deal with the world, such as it is, today. No, I don’t want to see that happen again.  It already is though. On any given night- according to the VA and the Departments of Housing and Urban Development (HUD) they estimate that over 67,000 veterans are homeless. HOW does this happen? WHY are we not taking care of these men and women?

I’m not defending Sgt. Bales actions, but I’m not condemning him either. I think he snapped. I think he saw too many of his friends get blown up and shot up. These are pictures that will NEVER leave his brain. I think he felt a certain amount of survivors guilt and I think he lost all ability to figure out how to fix his unraveling life both in the Army and at home in the US. Like any of us might- (and so few of us can even imagine his world) in an untenable situation, trapped in a hostile, remote part of the world- he snapped.  

I just have to stop for a minute- every time I read an incendiary report about this and try to understand that most people feel there is no reasoning behind the actions Sgt. Bales took. I do understand their anger, I am angry too. My anger is directed towards the people don’t care about our troops who are deployed 15 months (Army) and some many as 5 COMBAT deployments in 5 years (Marines) and my anger is directed  towards the people who constantly say stupid things like “Well, he signed up for this right?”

In the last few years, I have made a concentrated effort to back away from all things Marine Corps, all things war related. I had to for the sake of my own mental health. But my support of our troops and our veterans has never waivered. It never will. I purposely don’t write about these issues because it usually starts some sort of riot. But riot be damned- people need to wake up and understand the facts before they go off on their crusades.

If I were Sgt. Bales mother, I would love him just as much today as the day he was born. Maybe more. And so that is how I think I prefer to think of Sgt Bales. Not as a monster that killed 17 people in cold blood- but as a son who is sick and needs help. He is her son, and he is America’s son. I hope he gets the help he needs.

Side note: I do understand that Afghanistan has been under siege for so many years most of her citizens don’t remember peacetime. I have no doubt they are war weary- and suffer from extreme PTSD. Some of them hate us and some of them tolerate us. Few of them love us. This incident has done severe harm to the tenuous relationship between the allied forces, the US and Afghanistan and we need to be on high alert for retaliation. I’m fairly certain “we” will never be forgiven for the crime against these families. Having said that- I hope we don’t hang Sgt Bales to prove a point to the Afghans’ that we are sincere in our apology. We need to be loyal to our own first.

We need to make it clear to the President of the United States- that it is not okay to treat these hideous incidents as anything other than a horrible case of PTSD and/or TBI or at best temporary insanity. We need to get the word out to as many people as possible that the way our troops and vets are being treated is not acceptable. We need to demand they get the treatment they need. The United States government owes its thanks and protection to these men and women that have sacrificed their lives, limbs and in many cases their very souls to fight terrorism and protect the freedoms we have in the United States. It's up to us to get the word out- do not use Sgt. Bales as a human sacrifice to win some points with the Arab world.

Happy Birthday Baby 2-28-12

You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. You saved my life the minute you were born; maybe the minute you were conceived. I love that you got the best of two very flawed people- with just a smidgen of our flaws- so that maybe you could relate to us a little.

Since you were just a little guy you always brought the best out of the worst of us. The curmudgeonliest old people smiled when they saw you totter across a room. Weathered old sailors and grizzled mechanics, waitresses, grocery clerks and plenty of strangers always commented about what a cool or amazing kid you were.

You have been my hero always. Before the Marines, before your first steps, your old soul eyes looked into mine and I knew you were special.

I could not be more proud of the man you have become. You may feel burdened sometimes taking care of everyone like you do- but I watch in awe and feel such pride being your mom. (Though I take no credit for your incredible ability to help everyone.)

I hope this birthday is a great one for you. I hope this year brings you peace of mind, joy and pride in yourself.

You are the perfect son for me. The best gift I was ever given.

I love you with all my heart. 

Happy Birthday, Nicholas John Nakamoto

Mom

There for the Grace of God go I.

I woke up this morning thinking about a dinner conversation we had last night. All week long, I have heard disparaging words about Whitney Houston and her death, always using the “real heroes” are our soldiers, sailors and Marines in argument of her hero status.

Why does honoring one have to take from the other?  Heroes come in all shapes and sizes. For thousands of underprivileged (or call it like it is- dirt poor) kids in New Jersey and scattered around the U.S., Whitney Houston was a hero. She was a black woman who made it big– and she became successful, famous and wealthy by almost anyone’s standards. That her life fell apart is only a bit of her story- yet it’s the part some  people want to focus on.

I never understand why it always has to be one way or another. Why does my hero have to be your hero?  I have more than a few heroes. My son of course, even before he became a Marine and went to fight a war in Iraq- he was my hero. My dad- even though he was not the best dad, my mom, even though she was not the best mom, lots of writers, several friends for various reasons, a fireman I am related to, a few policeman I know and yes, the troops- the people that put themselves in harms way for our freedoms. I’m not one to idolize movie stars or musicians, it’s just not my thing, but I can see quite clearly why people do idolize them. Many people need to see a shining star within reach. It’s not a bad thing. I don’t understand the disdain.

I look at it like this. Whitney Houston was somebody’s mother, somebody’s daughter, somebody’s friend and so on. Why should her loved ones hurt any less because she wasn’t perfect, or a Marine or a soldier or fireman?  If you believe in God- and most of you do- why is her life less precious to God than anyone else’s?  

I was not one bit surprised by the death of Whitney Houston. I watched her downward spiral for a long time. I was however; surprised by the lack of compassion by so many people- people who thought the attention was over the top. I hate to think it was a racist thing, but I don’t remember anyone being this angry over the attention Amy Winehouse got for her untimely self induced death.

It’s not for me to say or you to say- who the “real” heroes are for anyone other than ourselves. But, if you can’t look at the world from a point of view other than your own, then you have my sympathy.  

As for Whitney’s demise-  There but for the Grace of God go I.

So this is Sixty...

On this day, my 60^th birthday, I am up at 6AM. It’s only fitting I guess that in a week that sleep was a priceless commodity, I squander it now to write something about turning 60.

Sixty – feels just like 59. But it sounds better to me. Better on so many levels- like I made it to sixty- or- I am sixty dammit- don’t treat me like a child, moron, idiot (you pick the noun).

I already perused facebook, commented to some annoying person, and chatted with one of my Marine Mom’s this morning. I checked my emails, drank two cups of coffee, and so far I have to say that 60 is just like 59.

I received a couple of very nice cards from well-wishers. One card from my oldest, dearest friend – we have actually grown old together (45-46 years of friendship), how great is that? One card in particular caught my attention because it’s from a new, young friend, who said in the card that I bring joy and light to her. I don’t see myself as bringing joy and light to too many people. I bring something… sharp wit, a few laughs, intelligent conversation, hard-headedness, but not so much joy and light. That I am able to bring this to her made me feel better about myself. Maybe sixty has smoothed some rough edges. Maybe my new friend looks at me through fresh young eyes and doesn’t see the baggage, the scars, the information highway which grooves my face.

I am having breakfast with two old friends this morning- then dinner with my sisters. I plan on doing the things I enjoy today- like reading, writing, riding my bike and walking my dog.

I don’t plan on reminiscing my way though the past 59 birthdays or future tripping on what 60 will be like. I’m just going to do the same thing that got me here- and keep putting one foot in front of the other. Maybe I’ll watch my step closer.

I have just a few words of wisdom for those of you behind me in this trip. Take care of your skin, your teeth, your feet and your back. (I didn’t)  If you smoke- quit now- (I did) it may buy you a few years. Don’t get fat- it’s nearly impossible to get rid of it later. (I’m trying)  Find beauty in something. Have passion for something. Hang on to your friends. Don’t let anyone use you as a doormat. Don’t complicate things. Feed your brain and keep it nimble with books. Learn new words as often as possible. Focus on the now- not the future or the past.

The True Confession of an Obit Reader

   
Okay, so I read the obits. So what? I bet you do too. I bet everyone over the age of 40 reads them, or younger if you are Italian. I bet you wonder what killed them if it doesn’t say. I do, especially if they are young- or my age. Sometimes you can tell by the charity chosen to donate to. Sometimes it is the Humane Society, so then you’re left to wonder.

I started reading the obits in my 20’s. My mom read them too. She would call me when I lived in San Francisco and she lived in Marin- and ask me to check the San Francisco obits for relatives and friends.

My reasons for reading them now are two-fold. Or so I tell myself anyway. First because I do have a morbid curiosity to know if anyone I know died. Second, I like to critique them. Now the latter sounds bad- but I can’t help it. It has made me somewhat obsessive about my own obit, so I am either going to write it myself- or possibly trust my son to make it a good one. (Depending on how much of a surprise my departure is.)

I am particularly curious about the people that lived to be ninety and their obituary has almost nothing in it.  Mind you, I don’t want mine to read every little detail. “Katie was wild as a youth, ran away from home several times, was somewhat promiscuous in her twenties (it was the 70’s people) and drank like a fish until she was in her late thirties.”

No, I don’t want that. (Nick, please note.) But some accomplishments- other than giving birth to an awesome kid- would be nice. And if I died of being hit by a big old bus- then say so- I don’t want my friends and other obit aficionados to wonder how I ended up wherever I end up.

I live where I grew up, so I’m seeing more and more names I know in the obits these days. Most of them I haven’t seen in forty years- so I won’t be running off to their funerals. That would be too Harold and Maude, even for me.

Lately, I’ve found a couple of other good uses for obits.  Character names and profiles are a plenty in that section. Of course, I mix and match- but grabbing real careers and names makes very believable characters.

 Lastly- reading the obits really reminds me to live like there is no tomorrow. Live passionately and be true to yourself- because it may be a one-trip deal. (As much as I like the thought of reincarnation- just in case- I like to hedge those bets.)

So here is hoping I don’t see your name anytime soon and if you see mine- I hope the following blurb gives you a couple of laughs.

Happy Weekend! 

I’m Glad I’m not Voting Today

I’ve been sitting on my hands for a couple of weeks now- trying so hard to not say anything about the political chaos going on. I just took a walk and tried to think of something else I could write about that might be of interest to someone- anyone.

All week long one sentence kept going through my head though. And this is what it was:

If I were President Obama, I would be dancing a jig right now.

Honestly, I don’t know where I stand in the political turmoil. I’m observing- and sharing my observations with you. I don’t vote party line because I don’t agree with either side 100%. So I vote for the person. I look for someone with the qualities that I find attractive in any human being. Intelligence, compassion, fairness, honesty (forthrightness), and a sense of humor. The later being important in the balance of all things grave and important- you do have to know when to laugh. I apply the same criteria to picking my friends.

I am not interested in religious doctrine when it comes to running this country. I do not care what religion anyone is as long as it does not interfere with affairs of state or as long as they don’t impose their views on me. I remember the controversy surrounding John Kennedy as the first Roman Catholic. He was a “damn Catholic”. I do not recall- and maybe because I was young, but I don’t recall in any history I have read, him ever making decisions based on his religion. It would stand to reason since he was a practicing Catholic, that he was pro-life, which means he couldn’t be elected as a Democrat today. But Pro Life and Pro Choice was not an issue in the 60’s. Illegal abortions were the rage back then. Death by rusty coat hanger was the solution to the problem of pregnancy.

I would like to see us not become involved in any more wars that are none of our business. YES- I know there is a global war on terrorism. (That is like a world war only sneakier) I know our country needs oil or we will become a 3^rd world country in the dark, tuit de’suite. So I am willing to try a little diplomacy. A little psychology.

Many of the world’s leaders are nut jobs. The Arab Spring cleaned up some of it- but there is much more to go. North Korea, Iran and Syria are the most pressing at this moment in time. Many African nations are lurking in the nut trees too. We cannot take our eyes off of any of them. Not for a minute.

I remember when President Obama was running for President and he said, “We're going to change the way we do things in Washington.” (DC). I actually did laugh out loud. I remember saying to whoever was in the room at the time-( maybe it was the dogs-) that he was in for a big surprise.

All candidates from all parties make promises they can’t keep- because all candidates are not privy to all the facts. They think they are- but they are not. And we sure aren’t either.

That was why after President Obama was elected- his plan for getting our butts out of Iraq changed slightly. Then much to the surprise of many, including me, he took an aggressive stance in Afghanistan- (which most American’s had forgotten about) and ramped up the troops. Because he knew more then he did before he was elected. It’s one of the perks of being President.

President Obama inherited a huge mess of a country. Everything was in the fiscal toilet. The housing market was a disaster and we were in or within a minute of being in a recession. I don’t think the President has the power to magically fix the mess he was handed. And I don’t think President Bush was the soul person responsible for the mess either.

The turn around has been painfully slow, but finally this week the economist’s have had some good news for us- and President Obama. Things are starting to go in a positive direction again. That is not why I think President Obama should be doing a jig. No- the reason I think he should be doing a jig is because the GOP has not produced a viable candidate – at least for me. I know a lot of Republican’s that are saying they have not decided yet- or flat out, they don’t like any of them. It will be interesting to watch this race.

And while many of the people that voted for Obama have been disappointed because he didn’t act fast enough, or changed his mind, armed with new information- still I doubt many staunch Democrats will be voting Republican.  Maybe- if they are like me- and vote for the man or woman and not the party some Democrats will cross over and visa versa.  The political gulf is widening though.

Bipartisan is a dirty word right now. I would personally like to see the politicians grow up and start figuring out where to compromise – because Congress is a joke if they can’t get anything passed- and that alone forces any President to make Executive Orders or *recess confirmations. The founding fathers made sure you could not keep the decisions of the country at a standstill. (*The question of the legality of the appointment will undoubtedly go to court- I am guessing that they will find it legal.)

I’m trying to convince myself my vote matters. I’m trying to figure out if I want health insurance for my preexisting conditions or not. I’m trying to figure out if I will have to live in a world full of bigots and people that think God is only for Christian’s and Americans.  I’m trying to figure out what will happen to the fragile economy if we make the wrong decision. I’m trying to figure out how many more troops – how many more mother’s sons or daughters will have to be killed in tribal wars that have gone on since the beginning of time and will likely continue long after we bring our troops home. (Yet I would be willing to go fight for the rights of women in those countries.) I’m trying to figure out if the economy will turn around or will I actually have to work till the day I drop dead.  I have no money so I’m not really worried about taxes right now.I am worried about civil rights, gay rights, and human rights.

I have more questions than answers. I want a hybrid candidate. One that offers solutions instead of insults and one that has the capacity to communicate with world leaders with respect where due- and be able to act swiftly, with might when necessary. I want a candidate that will respect the civil rights of Americans and the human rights of Americans and everyone else.

Maybe that is too much to ask of any human being.

See Ya 2011

It wouldn’t be right if I didn’t say an official adios to 2011. Frankly- I wished I could have back-peddled right out of this year 7 days into it- but I couldn’t. So- Nick and I were left with holes in our hearts, good and bad memories, words unspoken and unfinished business to wear across our shoulders like heavy chains for the rest of the year.

My own personal, physical misfortune paled in comparison and I felt guilty for even complaining about the pain I was in- when Nick’s poor dad would never feel pain or joy again. It wasn’t fair.

It’s never fair. I used to laugh at my sister who has three children and who bent over backwards to make sure they always had the same amount of gifts, the same things if possible. I saw the future of this error before she did. Different sexes, different needs and wants.  It would never be fair. It’s such a great thought but a poor lesson- because life in reality- is seldom fair. If we tell our kids to expect that- we are doing them a disservice. Fortunately, her kids figured it out on their own.

But as life does, so marched time and eventually we were able to put one foot in front of the other and live to varying degrees. I try not to live too out-loud anymore- having done a great job of that in my 20’s. But Nick has picked up the living baton and made a dash to the next stage, whatever that is. He is living out-loud- good for him.

I hear about Nick’s work and I know he is a lot like me. He gets the job done-and then some. And if they continue to treat him right he will remain loyal and true. I see bits of his dad too- an incredible work ethic, going to work if he has to crawl. He is no slouch.

My year would have been a lot easier if my dog Noodle hadn’t gotten so ill- but oh he taught me a wonderful lesson. Never give up. Not ever. And with that lesson came a quiet patience I never had before; developed while caring for him- while I was willing him to live and putting syringes of food  and water in a mouth that couldn’t open. He reminded me of what was important in the world- not just my little house. Be kind, be generous with your time, love with all your heart and have faith in yourself- and those around you too. He surprised me when he lived and then thrived and now he can eat a crunched up milk-bone.  He can open his mouth enough to sustain his own life.  He’s not perfect. He’s better than perfect- because he taught me, and all who went through this with me- that adapting is half the battle and heart is the other half. He had real people praying for him- he brought a community of people who didn’t know each other together with their concern for him. Wow- I bet all those politicians wish they knew how to do that.

I’ll remember this year for the rest of my life. It was full of impossible. That I somehow managed to take the Real Estate test and pass was something of a miracle. I had given up studying, my mind too tired to remember any more details after working all day and coming home to take care of dogs and clean- and maybe even write a line or two. But because I had paid for the test I figured what the hell, go take it. No one could have been more surprised than me when I started answering questions that seemed easy. They were all easy. I hope doing some business in 2012 goes as smoothly.

For 2011- I was reminded of what great friends I have made over the years and what a remarkable family I have. We may not talk everyday- but we are all in when the chips are down. How lucky I am to be born into this clan of crazies, and pick up my friends for life along the journey.

Easy years are the ones we never remember. I will remember 2011 until the day I die.

2012 will bring me to my 60^th birthday. I have outlived my three true loves and I can tell you there is a sadness to that I cannot describe. 

I have spent the last 26+ years trying to be good mom. Some years I fell short- but I think my overall grade is above average.

My goals for this coming year are simple- but lofty for a sixty year old. But I have seen from last year- if you believe and you have enough heart you can overcome incredible odds. Maybe I can’t change the tide- but I can change how I ride the waves.

.

Wishing you ALL the very best, safe happy & healthy 2012. Whether you are living out-loud or quietly - live well.