Wednesday's Hero

By Indian Chris

SSgt. Justin R. Whiting
27 years old from Hancock, New York
3rd Battalion, 5th Special Forces Group (Airborne)
January 19, 2008


Staff Sgt. Justin R. Whiting, a Special Forces medical sergeant sustained fatal wounds when his vehicle was struck by an improvised explosive devise 16 kilometers south of Mosul, Iraq.

He is survived by his mother, Estelline, of Colorado Springs, Colo., father, Randall, of Hancock, N.Y., sister, Amanda, of DuPont, Wash., and brother Nathan of Dover, Tenn.

For more information on SSgt. Justin Whiting, you can download this PDF file.

These brave men and women sacrifice so much in their lives so that others may enjoy the freedoms we get to enjoy everyday. For that, I am proud to call them Hero.
We Should Not Only Mourn These Men And Women Who Died, We Should Also Thank God That Such People Lived

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*Added*

Looking at my reader when I got home from work today I was up to 106 posts waiting to be read and enjoyed. And all I could do was click on the one’s where I knew I could just look at the pictures. :(

I know I said it last week, but this new position at work is not only kicking my butt, but my brain as well! I will try to catch up with all of you.. er … over the weekend …? I hope.

She will always be my little girl.

At what point do you have to admit that your little girl is all grown up? Is it when they start to drive and begin to be so independent, or when they have their first broken heart? Is it when they pack up and go away to college for the first time? Or maybe it’s when they win a part, or maybe 2, in their university’s production of The Vagina Monologues.

Oh my.

Yes, on February 14^th I will be watching my daughter and several other young women talking about vaginas. Okay, I know there is a lot more to it than that but just today Dani was in the student union selling chocolate vagina pops to passersby. All kinds of chocolate too, from milk to dark to some kind of raspberry mousse. I think that’s what she said. Which of course prompted my son to call out in his best imitation of a newsboy - “come try my vagina, get your vaginas here…”

Oh my.

Wikipedia says “The Vagina Monologues are the cornerstone of the V-Day movement, whose participants stage benefit performances of the show worldwide each year between February 1st and March 8th (International Women's Day. The first V-Day benefit took place on Valentine's Day 1998 and many of the local benefits are held on Valentine's Day. The "V" in V-Day stands for Valentine, Vagina, and Victory, linking love and respect for women to ending violence against women and girls. The proceeds from these performances go to programs that work to end violence against women and girls, including crisis centers and women's shelters.

So that’s good.

It’s all so in your face, and it’s meant to be. I understand that. Still, I don’t know how I will feel sitting in the audience accompanied by my son listening to vagina this, vagina that, vagina everything. And while it sounds funny it’s actually not. It’s about violence and brutality against women, as well as how powerful women are and how it is all tied into her sexuality.

So while I know it is serious and thought provoking and socially relevant, there’s still that part of me that’s a little bit squeamish about having all those references to vaginas and everything you could possibly associate with them flying around an auditorium. There’s still a little bit of the urge to say to my daughter, “sh-h-h, it’s not nice to talk like that Honey, keep your voice down!”

But maybe that’s the point.

I could get used to this!

After getting up at 8:30 this morning, even though I sat around and drank my tea and read blogs, once I started moving I still had plenty of time to get things done. It seems like the hours just stretched out ahead of me and if I had chosen to, I could have gotten twice as much done as I did. But for me, I did a lot. I need to feel like this all the time.

Is this how other people feel? Happy to sit and watch some TV but also perfectly willing to go do the dishes or pull all the bedding off and do some laundry? Vacuuming during commercials and changing the towels in the bathroom as I walk by?

What the heck? I cannot believe it’s only 6:30 in the evening and I have done more than I did the entire 2 weeks I was home from work right before Christmas. Okay, that’s not so hard to do considering I got nothing done during all that time. I enjoyed having those days off, but I was tired and just wanted to sit at the computer, watch TV and sleep.

Once I get my bed made (and maybe take a swipe at the bathroom) and get my tea ready for morning, I will have the whole rest of the evening as a guilt-free reward for being so productive today!

I really hope this isn’t a one time thing, or a fluke. If I continue keeping my hours regular and sleeping well, maybe I can have this much energy all the time. I can only imagine the things I might spend my time doing. Because it just seemed like there were so many more hours available to me in the day!

So I have to ask, is this how other people feel when they get up early (8:30 IS very early for me) on the weekend after a good nights sleep?

I suppose my trophies ARE a bit tarnished ..

Everybody has something they are good at. Something they have worked really hard at or something that comes as naturally to them as breathing. Or – sleeping.

I have always excelled at sleeping. If there was a gold medal, a blue ribbon, or a trophy for snoozing, I would have it. I would have to have a separate room just for my awards; I have always done it so well.

But I have been so tired this past year or so, all I have wanted to do is sleep. I have to force myself to get up in the morning, yawn all day, and daydream about taking a nap as soon as I get home from work. Frequently during the day I can be heard exclaiming “I’m dying here.”

On the weekend it’s not unusual for me to simply not wake up till noon or later. And then – 2 or 3 hours later – curling up on the couch for a nap. Except my naps are like a nights’ sleep for some people. 3 hour naps would be considered the norm for me.

I have always marveled at people who just wake up in the morning – early in the morning, which means any time before 10:00. And not only wake up, actually get up and out of bed. If I wake up early it’s only to trudge to the bathroom or clumsily turn over – and then I’m back to sleep again before you know it.

My doctor suggested that maybe with all this sleeping and never feeling rested, I am not sleeping well. My reaction was “What??? I sleep like a champ!” It never ever in a million years would have occurred to me that I am not actually getting good sleep. Heck, I thought ALL sleep was good sleep!

So when he suggested I try taking something to help me sleep, a test, to see if it would be a different kind of sleep, I balked. “I don’t need anything to sleep, wanna see? I’ll lay down right here on this narrow paper-covered exam table and show you! Just give me 10 minutes.”

I ended up agreeing to his little experiment, more out of desperation than anything else. I am so tired of being tired.

I have been taking mama’s little helper for a week now. Getting to bed at approximately the same time every night, and getting up at my usual time in the morning. I haven’t taken any naps, although there have been days that by 8:00pm I am just waiting for it to be 10:00 o’clock so I can take a quick shower, get my stuff ready for morning, and climb into bed.

This morning, Sunday, I woke up at an ungodly hour. I laid there for a while, looking at the cats that were surrounding me sensing that I was awake and would soon be the bearer of food. I looked at the clock, closed my eyes again, somewhat confused. Confused, because I was awake. I probably could have gone back to sleep if I tried, but I didn’t feel like I needed to try.

I don’t really have an addictive personality, unless you count cigarettes which I did finally quit, and carbs which I haven’t. But I have had diet pills – nah – tossed them in a drawer. Anti-anxiety meds – quit taking them when I felt I didn’t need them anymore. So I am not worried about taking this medication for too long or in a way that isn’t good for me.

It’s only been a week. I don’t want to get too excited. I can’t jump to any conclusions or give my doctor any credit (especially since he’s such a smart-ass) when the experiment is only 7 days old.

But this morning? This morning I woke up all on my own, without an alarm or a cat touching my face with her paw. I didn’t wake up because I had to pee or to turn over. And this morning, I got out of bed at 8:30 am. And not because I had to.

For a lot of people that’s normal. For me? Momentous!

I'm just sayin'

I just have to say something. If I say enough is enough, if I warn you that you are pissing me off, I would advise you to accept the consequences if you continue to push.

Do not ever tell me to not let it bother me because in my mind that does not compute. If you are striking a nerve, one that is raw to begin with, I have no control over how I FEEL when you hit it.

You are the one person I expect to respect my feelings and my boundaries. Do you understand how that makes it worse if you are the one to hurt my feelings? And not listening to me hurts my feelings.

Normally you are so incredibly good at it. That probably makes it hurt more. I’m not used to feeling anything but good things for you and from you and I never expect to feel the need to end a conversation abruptly because you are ignoring what I have said.

It happens so rarely for us. Because we are wonderful together.

Normally.

Yes, I love you. I have always loved you I always will. That doesn’t change.

I just need a minute, and you need a minute too. Figuratively speaking. I will soothe my raw nerve and you will lick your wounds.

It will all be fine.