"securi-TEA" : recollections

Peace be within your walls and security within your towers!
(Psalm 122:7, ESV)

There is much variance in the security continuum. The security felt by a baby in a mother-child relationship is at the opposite end of the spectrum from a security of a nation with fortified borders. Somewhere in between is that home security of a "safe" neighborhood and that brotherhood security of belonging......to a family or a group.

On this Memorial Day 2014, I recall the sense of security (belonging) that Daddy felt on Saturdays, especially after Mother died, when he went to the VFW for his "virtually free" lunch. He always gave a "donation" to the jar, and would comment on what a great deal it was to get a bowl of soup or chili with a hotdog or maybe even a plate of spaghetti. But the best deal was the welcome he received from his place at the same table week after week.** Decatur Adams to his left and Tag Mabry to his right with Daddy in his listening position between the two. Daddy was a listener. He and Tag both served in the army  on Goodenough Island in the Solomon Sea (New Guinea) during WWII, tho they didn't realize it until they returned home after the war. Tag had no trouble in recounting those days and Daddy understood where he was coming from in his tales. A sense of security builds between folks who have been on the same side of a struggle. 

Tho he rarely would talk about it, Daddy was later wounded on the isle of Leyte in the Philippines. The US lost 3500 men in 67 days in October 1944. I do remember that Daddy, the platoon leader, and his men walked in the muck for so long that Daddy"s (and others?) boots virtually rotted off his feet. Once he and his men came upon a small vacated cabin. Inside was an old upright piano. One of his men sat and played familiar songs which they all tearfully "sang" as they recalled the tune and some of the words. Daddy said that at that moment of surprised joy and delight, he decided that his home with Mother would have a piano. 2211 South Virginia Street had an old upright piano in the front hall for as far back as I can remember. I took piano lessons from Mrs. Bell who lived just across Virginia Street, but never became "accomplished." Son, Buddy however still plays, mainly by ear so maybe Daddy started a good thing because hubby and I  had a piano in our first home as well.

Daddy was seriously wounded in the leg at Leyte by a Japanese sniper high in a tree. Daddy was sent to a military hospital and eventually returned to the states. Daddy became a member of that brotherhood of veterans who were awarded the purple heart.

The day after his wounding, another sergeant took Daddy's place, leading the platoon on maneuvers. Ambushed by the Japanese, none survived. That event is probably the reason Daddy chose not to talk very often about the war. 

We still hang our flag in honor of our vets whose valor
has afforded us our freedom and security for all these years!

Growing up as a child of one who was a member of the GI Generation (dubbed the "Greatest Generation" by Tom Brokaw) I always felt secure---there was no reason not to in our little town. But now, as an adult, and as grateful as I am for all the military protection that comes from living in a democracy, I realize that no borders are ever totally secure.  9/11 broadcasted that truth in living (and dying) color.

But God....in His love and mercy provides a security that goes beyond walls and towers. His cuppa securi-TEA is the one I sip with gratitude, knowing that even if all our defenses fail, He never does. 

Eterni-TEA with the Lord is the BEST cuppa securi-TEA. It is served with peace.

** Elwood Richardson, Hoyt Shimp, Red Tucker, were other table members.

Memorial Day……….

5/31/10 ……is a day to remember our veterans who died while in military service. It also has a way of reminding me of the veterans in my family who, though not killed in battle, still bear the scars of their service. This morning’s Commercial Appeal noted that over 900 WWII vets die every day in our nation. My daddy, a WWII recipient of the purple heart, says, he’s “grateful for everyday the good Lord gives him.” Larry’s dad, too, was a WWII vet but he entered ICU last year for the final time, as others marked Memorial Day honoring our fallen soldiers.
Both men showed courage and patriotism as they left for battle leaving young brides behind. Both men believed that freedom was worth dying for and both men are on my heart today.
I’ll call Daddy to say hello to my favorite vet and accompany Larry to the cemetery to place a flag at his dad’s grave. Both actions are a way to honor them.

Ephesians 6:2a says, “HONOR YOUR FATHER AND MOTHER…. “

Memorial Day Weekend

5/22/09 Time with a vet----

Last week-end I took time off and spent it in Hopkinsville, KY with a very special World War II veteran, my Daddy. This week-end I’ll be spending it with another special veteran of that war, Larry’s daddy, who remains in ICU. That requires time and energy, especially emotional energy, so I’m not going to be on-line unless there is a medical update.

Larry and I just returned from the 8:30-9:00 p.m. visiting time. I saw answered prayers for which I was grateful: Grandaddy was awake and he could nod answers; he was not in pain; and he nodded affirmation when told he was loved. He cannot however breathe on his own yet and the ventilator keeps him from talking at all. That is very frustrating and he gets agitated because he seemed to have something important to say or ask and we were unable to interpret. This actually produced tears from him and that’s so hard to watch. I had to turn away to hide my tears. Larry was very positive and informative telling him of all the procedures that were “behind” him and the good results. He gave him hope for a better quality of life than he had been experiencing. He verbally acknowledged his frustration and encouraged him to be patient. Then he told him “happenings” from the day and mentioned all the folks who had called. I just held his hand and rubbed his head and prayed. Wish I could sing. I remembered the comfort that brought me when Buddy quietly sang as I drifted in and out after my surgeries. Next time I think I’ll read Psalms to Grandaddy---there’s no tune, but the Psalms were the hymnal of the Jewish people and this "Book of Praises" offers such comfort. Maybe just hearing the words will put a song in his heart and lift his spirit. That would lift my spirit.