This blog is for all who desire to create with words and images.
You are encouraged to participate in any way that is meaningful to you.

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You are free to use the photo to be inspired to write any way you desire.
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you may offer your writing to any prompt anytime.
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Write and you are a writer.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Lest We Forget

Suggested Prompt...

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Offer a prayer for peace.

Veterans Day ~ 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month

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When my father was 18, he enlisted in the army--something he felt compelled to do in order to defend his country during WWII. Before he left, he married the little Irish lass of his dreams, telling her, "I'll be back in a year." So Mary waited... for her husband to return home, for her life as his bride to begin... and for the birth of their first child. The baby boy was born nine months after the wedding... nine months after my father left for Europe. So Mary continued to wait for her husband, so that she could introduce him to their son. Another nine months passed. The baby became ill... and died. My father never met his son. Still the war kept him far from his family, from his wife. As the long months stretched into years, Mary, bereft in the absence of her husband, the loss of her son, craved the comfort of a man's strong arms, and so she wrote a letter similar to those read by so many men during wartime who cannot return home: "I love you... but I must let you go." Losing her, I believe, was the single biggest sacrifice my father made in his lifetime... one he never fully recovered from.

And yet... He was never bitter toward his country. He remained a strong patriot to the end of his life. His grandparents had come to this land from Ireland and had found here all the freedom and prosperity they'd dreamt of. They began a legacy of patriotism and service that was passed down to their children, to their children's children.

This past Fourth of July (my birthday), I went to my father's grave, stood next to his headstone, and sang his favorite song, "Danny Boy."

"And I shall hear as soft you tread above me,
And all my dreams shall warm and sweeter be...
If you'll not fail to tell me that you love me,
I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me...."

Let us not fail to tell those we love how much we appreciate the sacrifices they have made so that we could continue to live in the land of the free, the home of the brave.

~ S. Kay Murphy


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7 comments:

Stevie G.B. said...

American
You forget to say thank you
You forget to say please
You forget to listen
You forget to be kind
You forget to vote
You forget to hang a flag

America
Why do you forget?
Because of the men and women
who fought for your
freedom to forget

Try to rmember that.

Say a prayer of thanks
Hang your flag
When you see a vet
Thank him or her

Laura Jayne said...

Bravo!! Well offered Stevie.

Laura Jayne said...

And my father fought in a war that wasn't a war.
And my grandfather fought in the war to end all wars.
And should we not learn any lesson my sons may have to take on the battles of other countries and the fights of men of power and oil.

Our fathers, our sons, our daughters have paid the price again and again. Let us find an end and find a peace.

Every moment of a war is a moment too long. Find the peace.

s kay murphy said...

When my father was 18, he enlisted in the army--something he felt compelled to do in order to defend his country during WWII. Before he left, he married the little Irish lass of his dreams, telling her, "I'll be back in a year." So Mary waited... for her husband to return home, for her life as his bride to begin... and for the birth of their first child. The baby boy was born nine months after the wedding... nine months after my father left for Europe. So Mary continued to wait for her husband, so that she could introduce him to their son. Another nine months passed. The baby became ill... and died. My father never met his son. Still the war kept him far from his family, from his wife. As the long months stretched into years, Mary, bereft in the absence of her husband, the loss of her son, craved the comfort of a man's strong arms, and so she wrote a letter similar to those read by so many men during wartime who cannot return home: "I love you... but I must let you go." Losing her, I believe, was the single biggest sacrifice my father made in his lifetime... one he never fully recovered from.

And yet... He was never bitter toward his country. He remained a strong patriot to the end of his life. His grandparents had come to this land from Ireland and had found here all the freedom and prosperity they'd dreamt of. They began a legacy of patriotism and service that was passed down to their children, to their children's children.

This past Fourth of July (my birthday), I went to my father's grave, stood next to his headstone, and sang his favorite song, "Danny Boy."

"And I shall hear as soft you tread above me,
And all my dreams shall warm and sweeter be...
If you'll not fail to tell me that you love me,
I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me...."

Let us not fail to tell those we love how much we appreciate the sacrifices they have made so that we could continue to live in the land of the free, the home of the brave.

justsomethoughts... said...

it has been said that anger is a wind that blows out the lamp of the mind. we have been angry for so long. and we have snuffed out our collective minds. remembering is the pilot light that rekindles that lamp. whatever "snuffed-out" part it is that needs rekindling...

Lebhorcham said...

Too much killing
Death in every corner of our planet
When do humans
Wake up
And stop
When do we Re-Member
That we are each
Every one
Part of the All
Part of That Which Creates All
Part of That we call God
When

Laura Jayne said...

What powerful writing. I get emotional reading each of these.