"Remember, yours, mine and hours"
You can read all about them.
You see them on television daily.
But what about those who love them?
Soldiers.
I have forced myself to watch news reports of units being
deployed to Iraq and Afghanistan. I say "forced" because
it always pains me. You know I hate goodbyes.
I run to the television when I hear about a returning soldier or
unit. You couldn't stop me from smiling if you hit me with a
baseball bat. I love happy endings.
Until last weekend though, I had never been up close, face to
face with anyone who had served over there or whose loved
one was presently deployed there.
I was about to speak to nearly one hundred family members of
the New Jersey National Guard. Their loved ones just left a few
days before.
What could I say that would make a difference?
"I could only imagine." No, I couldn't.
"I understand how you must feel." I couldn't possibly.
"This time will go by fast." Being away from someone you love
never goes by fast.
So, I opened by saying "I believe in you!"
I do. I believe in the God Who created each of us and I know
what we are all capable of. But someone needs to remind us.
At 1800 hours I was to have dinner with the families and staff
of the Family Readiness Group. I love military time. It
clearly reminds me of exactly how many hours I have lived or
wasted each day. 1800 is 6:00 p.m. telling me 18 hours has
passed. "What have you done with them?"
Having met most of the people at my table earlier in the day,
I didn't need to go about the introductions. I got to listen.
Go stand in a crowd of people. Look around you. They look
like ordinary, regular folks.
So do the military. If it weren't for the uniforms, you would just
think they were teachers, plumbers, cooks, or insurance
salesmen.
They are in fact, your neighbors, friends and perhaps your loved
ones. The difference is, when they go to work they are protecting
your life, your rights, your children and they are putting their lives
on the line for it all.
But what about the families left behind. Wives, husbands, girl/boy
friends, mothers and fathers are all back here counting the 2400 hours
that pass by ever so slowly while we all go about our day living the life
they are protecting.
I stood up to speak to them.
I am asking you to stand up and speak "for" them.
In New Jersey and every state in America, there are family gatherings
unlike anything you have experienced. These families are separated
from those they love. They meet, plan, organize and quietly raise funds
to provide services, resources, support and activities for the children and
spouses of deployed military.
Whether you agree with the war or not, it makes no difference. These
are our families, your families, your neighbors or friends.
Find them. Reach out and offer your help, financially, spiritually,
and personally.
As I spoke that Sunday morning at 0900 hours, I opened with my piece
"When you come home" produced by Beliefnet.com.
( http://www.beliefnet.com/story/192/story_19216_1.html )
I followed by singing "You Raise Me Up."
They were actually passing boxes of tissues throughout the room.
"I could only imagine." No, you couldn't.
"I understand how they must feel." You couldn't possibly.
Unless you are a family member or friend.
Like the "Friend I finally met," Jane Hackbarth. She has been
one of my readers for many years. She introduced me to Marie
Durling, the Family Programs Specialist who planned that
conference.
It is 0930 as I write this. I have spent part of those nine and a
half hours sleeping comfortably.
I know their loved ones and other military around the
world made it possible.
Remember, yours, mine and hours . . .
0845
0903
0943
1010
09/11
Contact your local military units and ask how you can help the families.
~ Bob Perks ~
2believe@comcast.net
[ by: Bob Perks Copyright © 2008 (2believe@comcast.net) -- {used with permission} ]
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