Prayers.

I am not one for prayer requests. Yes, I pray. Often and with passion. I also am pretty private about it. I like haveing the relationship to God that I have. Well now I am asking. I found out today as I am on vacation with my family that a woman I admired and liked who has been an important member of my brother's "family" passed away this weekend. she was 23 and has two small sons ages 2 and 3 months. she and her Air Force husband were alone in the car when they were sideswiped and she was killed. Now her babies are without their mother and a friend is without his highschool sweetheart. I am a huge believer in Heaven and in there being a better place so for her I feel some peace but for her boys and husband I can't help but be broken hearted. I pray for them and that they may find some comfort when all they want is to have her back. I can't seem to stop crying for them and for me. Is that selfish? I feel so angry and hurt and I have a hard time with that usual question of WHY? Why her? Why them? Why leave those little babies without their mama? My husband said that I need to remember that there is a pland and that obviously she was needed somewhere else more than she was here. I hope that is true but I have a hard time thining of a bigger need than small children of their mother. So please pray for the Goldin family, that they may be comforted and held close and that they may have the strength to endure what no child that young should ever have too. Thank you and God bless.

The hard truth....

Tonight I was watching a movie I had never seen. Based on a well known teen book series it falls into the category of husband will never watch with me. One of the characters was dying. As she lay under the stars discussing this with a friend she said something that struck home for me. She said that it wasn't death that scared her but more that she would not be able to become who she was supposed to be or that she would miss so much. I have always been afraid of death and I think this explains it better. It is not that I lack faith in what lays beyond this life but that once this life is over I will not have become what I was meant to be or that I will miss things in the lives of people I love. I think that is why I worry so much about death and keeping it at bay. I strive to be the best mother and wife that I can be. I put my heart and soul into all I do for my girls and all the life that I live. I make sure that every moment of every day my husband knows that I love him, that I have always loved him, and that my love for him grows richer and fuller with each breath we take together. I am devoted to my family, to Gracie and Maggy, to being all I can for them. My greatest fear is not the dying but that I will not have fulfilled something for those that I love that I should have. I know that all of my life is in the hands of a higher power, I trust that all will be as it should, I just hope that as it should be is after a long life of seeing my girls grown and happy and of having my marriage continuing to thrive and grow as each year passes.

Soldier's Health: Why I hate War

I'm sure most of you have heard about the recent tragedy in Iraq, were a soldier shot and killed 5 of his fellow soldiers. The soldier was being treated at a Stress Clinic at Camp Liberty in Baghdad. He'd been involved in a altercation earlier in the day, was relieved of his weapon and sent back to his housing. He returned later that day with another weapon, and shot 8 people, killing 5.

This subject is very hard for me to talk about. And let me get some straight right away. I'm not in the armed services, and I have never been in the armed services. I've never been to war, and I can't imagine how I would handle it if I was.

That being said, I was married to a service member who saw more then his share of war. I housed, feed and comforted countless soldiers during our marriage; some of whom came and went quickly, and many who became like family. We had a core group of boys (and I say boys because that's exactly what they were) who came to our house for various reason and never really left. I jokingly called them my Lost Boys, because I felt a lot like Wendy in Peter Pan. I was suddenly playing mother to a handful of kids, when I wasn't much older then them to start with.

With my ex's last deployment in 2006, my felt like my heart broke into tiny pieces and each of "My Boys" took a bit with them. They really were my family. At the end of a 16 month deployment, I had attended funerals, held crying wives, mothers and girlfriends. Not all of the pieces of my heart came home, and they never will.

Even the ones who returned were different. It's like they left as puppies; excited, not quite grown, but willing to do what they should. They came home scared, scrappy pound dogs. Some did well, continued in army and got over the things they had seen and done. Some never did.

One of 'my boys' was one that never got better. While on patrol in August of 2007 (2 months after they should have returned home, but they were extended for the "Surge") he and his units were clearing homes, and upon entering one of the houses, and trip wire was hit. The house was demolished, and 5 amazing men lost their lives. My friend never could come to terms with what happened. He struggled constantly with the fact that his friend Kareem, a Muslim from New Jersey who dreamed off being a doctor, had taken his place at the last second when my friend's show has come untied. He had good days and bad days, and not long after his return home was quoted by a newspaper as saying "I know they would want me to get on with my life," he said. "Just like I'd want them to get on with their lives if it had happened to me."

In the end he couldn't and on August 6th of last year, the 1 year anniversary of that fateful day, he killed himself at his home.

My ex-husband had already done 2 deployments, the last in 2006 was his third total, his second to Iraq. When he came home he was moody, depressed and very aggressive. I won't go into the horror stories, but it wasn't pretty. The constant mood swings, anger and fear took an incredible toll on our marriage. Our marriage wasn't on super solid ground to start with, and after an incident involving our son, I left him.

I went to his unit, talked to every doctor I could, and even after some extreme behavior by him, no one did anything more for him then the barest of minimums. They were happier to shove every incident under the rug and call it a day.

Obviously these are both fairly extreme cases, but I've seen some amount of these symptoms in pretty much every service member I know. I'm terrified for my friends and family in the service, and I wish there was something more to be done. It seems they are being used like racehorses, run and run and run and when they show signs of fatigue they are sent to the glue factory. The same unit of boys I know is being deployed again this summer. For many of them, this is now their second and third deployments.

I've seen so many people, lives and families torn to pieces from the inside out that it kills me a little everyday.

I don't know if this will even mean anything to anyone, but I had to get it off my chest.

Death!!!!!

Okay so I am definitely a lover not a fighter but sometimes..... While this opinion will earn me flack I am sure, I happen to be for the death penalty.

The prosecutors in the Casey Anthony murder trial have finally grown a pair and decided to pursue the death penalty. I think it is about dang time. Any one who kills a child whether their own or another should not be allowed to breath. Harsh, sure, even cruel probably. Children are the only innocents left in the world and they darn well deserve some old fashioned justice.

I hope they pursue the death penalty in the Melissa Huckaby case. As soon as they included the 'rape by instrument' charge I decided I would happily volunteer to flip the switch.

I think honestly serial child rapists and child murderers should be automatic capital cases. I am all about forgiveness and growth and chances, I really am, but some circumstances just do not deserve forgiveness.