May Your Heart Be Light

Everyone knows the song Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, but did you know there was an original version whose lyrics were changed because they were too depressing? Truly. They were changed after WWII to suggest the presence, not the absence, of loved ones. Given the era, I can absolutely understand why.

The original lyrics to the 4th verse are:

Through the years
We all will be together,
If the Fates allow
Until then we'll have to muddle through somehow
And have yourself A merry little Christmas now.

The first time I heard that version was Christmas of 2006, near (what we thought was) the end of Erik's first deployment. The mail had been stopped so we couldn't send gifts or (because they didn't really have access to a dining facility) anything to try to make a nice meal for them. It was very bittersweet, but I thought of them, in the cold mountains, muddling through...somehow - knowing that "from now on our troubles will be miles away" (at least until the next deployment, haha!) But it really, really spoke to me, and I've thought of the first time I've heard that song during every Christmas season since. It's kind of one of those "I remember right where I was when..." moments for me.

So now every time I hear the song, (and it's always the new version) I sing the old version to myself and remember. It still bring tears to my eyes. And I think about how grateful I am that there are folks willing to muddle through holidays away from their families for the sake of strangers. Strangers who, in my opinion (especially during this budget renegotiation on the backs of service members), aren't nearly grateful enough.

Judy Garland's wartime performances of "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" brought tears to the eyes of soldiers, sailors, and Marines - who didn't know if they'd live to see another Christmas - as Garland sang, "Someday soon we all will be together / If the fates allow / Until then we'll have to muddle through somehow / So have yourself a merry little Christmas now."
Read more at http://www.philly.com/philly/opinion/20131208_Beneath_those_songs_of_cheer__a_sad_heart.html#oHrlEwT3orOcJMq1.99

Judy Garland's wartime performances of "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" brought tears to the eyes of soldiers, sailors, and Marines - who didn't know if they'd live to see another Christmas - as Garland sang, "Someday soon we all will be together / If the fates allow / Until then we'll have to muddle through somehow / So have yourself a merry little Christmas now."
Read more at http://www.philly.com/philly/opinion/20131208_Beneath_those_songs_of_cheer__a_sad_heart.html#oHrlEwT3orOcJMq1.99

At the Mall

Then:
I was mad that when Soldiers died their spouses had to choose between receiving their retirement OR their life insurance benefits.

I was mad that whatever amount of money they chose to take was heavily taxed.

I was mad that (minor) children were paying taxes on money they inherited from dads they never met.

And I'm still mad. It seems so unfair.

Now I'm pissed.

The Bipartisan Budget Act passed last week and took with it any semblance of gratitude to our troops ever expressed by our elected leaders.

And I can't help but think that I, and a few other people I've seen chatter about this on Facebook, are the only ones who noticed. Why is no one as pissed off as I am?!

I'm not even mad about the fact that my family was just robbed of $124,000 over the course of my husbands retirement, or that now we're going to have to pay even more out of pocket if we ever choose not to live on post again. It's irritating, but both Erik and I know the budget has to be balanced and we're willing to do our part. Not that we really had a choice...

No, I'm mad because of what no one has talked about yet.

The bill that just took $124,000 out of my family piggy bank, just took $80,000-$120,000 out of the pockets wounded soldiers who had to be medically discharged because of their injuries. Additionally, it takes some of the same effects in the lives of folks who are living without their Soldier spouse or parent. That means, if you went to war and got your leg blown off, your retirement just got cut. If you kissed your husband goodbye and watched him get onto one of those damn buses that took him to a plane, the next time you saw him was in a body bag and the amount the government was paying you to somehow make up for the fact your spouse is DEAD just got cut.

For years Erik has been quoting something he read somewhere along the way "the military is at war, Americans are at the mall," and I didn't really believe him until now.

Here's a list of the leaders who voted to pass the budget bill, and cut military benefits in the process.

I'm hopeful everyone remembers this at election time. I know I certainly will.

And the Earth Stood Still: December 22, 2005

For a couple of months Erik had been hinting to me about what he bought me for Christmas.

• It was small
• Made mostly of metal
• He would only ever buy one for me
• Very gender specific

My friends and mom swore, but I didn't think so.

We had never even discussed marriage apart from a singular conversation during an episode of Animal Cops when it was decreed that when we get a pet we should get it from the pound. And once when we were in the early stages of dating when he said he wouldn't wear a wedding ring and I said I wouldn't marry someone who refused. That was it. "People discuss these things to death now-a-days, don't they?" I thought.

When I arrived at his apartment at Ft. Drum for a 16 day visit over Christmas, I waited until he went to work that next day and searched around a little. No dice. Oh well. Marriage was too scary. I was too young. And all the other "toos."

The next day we went to dinner and I told him I thought we should open our personal gifts to each other before heading to his parents house the following day. He said he didn't think so (even though we'd already discussed it beforehand). We got home, and I was pissed. I am a terrible gift giver and was a broke college student, and I didn't want my meager gifts broad casted in front of his family that I didn't know very well. Plus, I just like opening presents.

Finally he agreed. And he gave me a box.

It was definitely small. And light.

I unwrapped it. Moved the tissue and found a tiny pink Swiss Army Knife.

I was relieved and disappointed. I said "This is what you've been giving me hints about?!" (and it did fit all the hints...)

And when I looked up he was on his knee with a ring and said "No, this is."

And proposed.

Apparently I looked like a dear in headlights but somehow managed to squeak out a yes.

Over the next 18ish hours I tried desperately to reach my mom who was skiing in Colorado. I couldn't feel good about announcing the news to Erik's family if I couldn't tell my own mom! Finally, on the way to Erik's parent house she called me back. She was excited and asked to talk to Erik. I guess she asked him if I cried and when he said no, she asked to speak to me again and immediately asked me if I was sure.

The truth then was that I wasn't. I had spent an hour on instant messenger with my best friend the night before after Erik was asleep. Marriage was scary for this child of (multiple) divorce(s). I wasn't sure I'd be a good wife to him. I wasn't sure I was wife material for anyone. I couldn't iron. I couldn't cook. No. I wasn't sure at all. (yes, I know how silly all this sounds now. At the time though, not knowing how to cook seemed like a mountain that could never be climbed.) I wasn't unsure of him, I was unsure of myself. But he was sure and that counted for something. That counted for a lot.

Most importantly, I am definitely sure now.

"Papa Two Zebras"

Several months ago. I'm going to say like... April... Erik's dad went to Africa for a hunt.

They already have a zebra rug in their living room, which is about the most kid-proof floor covering on the planet, and he wanted a second one to make into a chair. Don't send me any letters people, it is what it is - and he didn't get one anyway.

The first time G asked to call Papa, I told him Papa was in Africa and we'd have to wait. He asked why Papa was in Africa and I said he was looking for a zebra. G reminded me that Papa already had a zebra on the floor, so I told him Papa wanted two zebras.

So then when he'd ask if he could call Papa, I'd say "Papa is in Africa. What's he doing there?" and G would say "Papa TWO zebras!!"

So when Papa came home from Africa, he brought G not one, but two stuffed zebras.

G was thrilled BUT he will NOT allow them to sleep in his bed with him (and the other 7870987 things he has to have in there), they must stay on the desk Erik refinished several years ago. If they move, he freaks out.

I'd pay money to be inside that kids head.

Bradford the Elf

I moved the Elf on Friday night.

But on Saturday I forgot.

And then on Sunday I forgot.

So Monday morning before getting G out of bed, Erik had to make a quick decision and this is where our Elf ended up.

Yes, that *is* the worlds largest bottle of vodka. It has to live a'top the fridge because it's too big to fit in the cabinet (seriously, it's the length of an adults arm). And I'm pretty sure the level of booze was above the K before Bradford got a hold of it.