Giving thanks #1; When I'm found in the desert place...

What I like to call 'the mess hall years' are one of the many things I am thankful for.

I am one of the privileged few who have dined in the mess hall for Thanksgiving dinner.

My dad was stationed in Germany for the second time, and this second time around he insisted on taking his family with him. For three whole years.

It was hard being away from my grandma - my mom, my brother, my grandma and I were freakishly close.

And Thanksgiving was my grandma's day to shine.

So when Thanksgiving came around, my mom didn't cook anything at all. We piled in the car, drove on base and went to the mess hall.

I thought she was mistaken. Where's my homemade dressing and gravy?

NO, none of that...We were eating at the mess hall - which would be where we had every Thanksgiving while we lived in Germany. 

We were right there on base, with the soldiers dressed in their BDU`s - single guys who lived in the barracks, who didn't even have their families to eat with that day.

Thankful.

Thankful.

Thankful.

I'm so thankful for people who sacrifice, and believe in good things. 

I'm so thankful for heroes, and courage.

I'm so thankful for love.

And, okay, I was really thankful when we came back home and I experienced a REAL (read: my grandma's) Thanksgiving dinner again.

Ties, baby

We go to Cumberland Falls every year.  My daughter feels the pull as much as I do, and insists on it.  She'll be 21 in July. !!!.  She was 2 or 3 in this picture, and my grandma had talked us to the edge to get a great shot.

We're Kentuckians, through and through.  Even though I was an Army brat and lived in a lot of different places, it was a relief to come back home.  I'll never want to live anywhere else.  Why would I?  This is the best place in the world.

I blame my grandmother.  She raised all of us to be like this.  I'm not kidding when I say that when I was little, she'd sing me to sleep with a lullaby that began, "Kentucky, you are the dearest land outside of heaven to me...".

I'm a city girl, but I can trace my dirt poor tobacco-farming eastern Kentucky ancestors back to the 1700's.  That's because they're all buried in our family cemetery in Blackwater, KY, where we go every year on Decoration Day.  My grandmother is buried there, and my great-great-great-great-grandmother is buried there. There's still room left for me, too.

We were taught how to handicap the Kentucky Derby by the time we were 5, the basics of country music at 6, and had field tripped the state's major landmarks before age 10.  The UK Wildcats basketball worship training began in the womb.

It's a good thing the brainwashing began early and intense, because it might not have otherwise survived the big 3-year move to Germany.  We didn't get basketball over there, I had to rely on country music cassette mix tapes sent to me via APO mail, the only mountains were the Alps, and the only landmarks were various castles and the Schwarzwald.

I got shipped back home right before I turned 13.  A little culture shock.  But my family!  My trees, my basketball, my Derby, my bluegrass, my mountains, my falls, my Kentucky...

Edit: My mom reminded me exactly how the song goes:

Kentucky, you are the dearest land outside of heaven to me,
Kentucky, I miss your laurel and your redbud trees…
When I die, I want to rest upon your graceful mountains so high..
For that is where God will look for me.

No matter, alerts of this aren`t working anyway...

Before I left for Germany, when I was ten years old, my family had an early birthday party for my brother and me…who knew when we would be home again? My grandmother decorated a huge cake, with one side of it with Smurfs (for me J ), and the other side of it with a UK wildcat (for my brother)…

We got lots and lots of presents that day. One of my presents was a tape recorder…one of those huge black and silver things… On that day, with my family all together for the last time in what would be years, I made all of them speak into the recorder and record a special message for me.

I took that tape with their special message with me to Germany, where I kept it for all three years I was there, and whenever I was desperately homesick for my family I would play it…

The message was simple: It was my mom, my brother, my grandma, my grandpa, my aunt, my great-aunt…everybody recorded the same thing… 

"I love you, Michelle…"
"I love you, Michelle…"
"I love you, Michelle…"

I no longer have the tape, but I can still hear it, in my head…

Today, my family had an early birthday party for me (my birthday is actually Monday)…They called me into the kitchen, and I walked in to the crowd of people, my mom, my grandparents, my brother and sister-in-law and nephew, my daughter, my aunts, my boyfriend…

I knelt down to blow out the candles on my cake…

And I realized that all the people that had left me the messages on my tape so long ago were still right here…

I nearly cried as I realized how blessed I was, that over twenty years later, I’m still a member of this wonderful, sometimes maddening, always loving family,

And they were able to tell me again, today, that they loved me…

Instead of a wish for something I didn’t have, this year, before blowing out the candles, I just thanked God…for everything.

Dawn is breaking

When we first moved to Germany, I was ten years old, and, as an Army brat, used to moving.  What I wasn't used to was living somewhere where my grandmother wasn't just a weekend visit away...she was a whole ocean away!  I thought I would die of homesickness - in this case, home meant my grandparents.
The first little town I lived in...

That's me in the apron and white hat...the town held a parade and invited some of the Americans living on their economy to participate.  My brother is holding one of the flags, my mom is the Indian, and my dad is the cowboy.
We were quite geeky.  Maybe we still are...

Counting the days...

I measure the memories of my childhood based on where my dad was stationed that year.
High school was a fun, glorious, constant time (four years in one place!).
After my first year of college, I found myself with a baby and suddenly single, both on the same day.
The years after that I measure by the different relationships I was in.
Until I fell in love with my boyfriend, eight years ago (long time, not married, I've already heard this!).
Since then I measure time by the different jobs I've had in the large corporation I work for (I transfer every two years or so to a different department, my company likes us to be well-rounded!).
So does this mean that I'm defined by where I live, who I love, where I work?
What does it mean to be defined by...me?

Old Friends

This weekend's assignment:
The summer before second grade I moved to another new place and had to make more new friends...life as an Army brat, you know.
My first day at my new house, I was outside watching the movers take the boxes in, and an older girl stopped by on her bike, and said, "You're the same age as my sister, I'll go get her."
The sister, Carrie, came over, and that was my first best friend in second grade.  She lived across the street from me on the Army base, as did my other best friends Eileen and Crystal, and the four of us remained best friends until I moved away after 4th grade.
My memories of that friendship are precious to me, with lots of slumber parties, secret clubs, and gymnastics and skating sessions.  Life was good.
I really didn't keep in touch very well with my friends after I moved, but our mothers did, for the most part!  I last saw Eileen when she came to visit in 8th grade...she is now a mother living in New Mexico.  I last saw Carrie when I went to visit her while I was in high school...she still lived in the same area, and has since married an Army GI (still living the life!).  I haven't seen Crystal since my teen years, either, and we've unfortunately lost touch.  But I'll always appreciate making such good friends so quickly in a new place, when I really needed it!
And for my extra credit, the 2nd grade me: