Category Archives: Personal Reflection

Prevalence of Suicide

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My granddaughter is always asking me what she should do if someone tries to kidnap her. I give her a few self-defense tips, tell her to always be aware, and then try to alleviate her fear. I impress upon her the fact that in all my years, I have never met anyone who has been kidnapped nor have I ever met someone who knows someone who has been kidnapped. I explained that these facts lead me to believe that your chances of being kidnapped are lower than your chances of winning the lottery. (I actually know someone who won that.)

I used to feel the same way about suicide. Growing up I never heard of anyone neither I nor my family knew that committed suicide. I never even knew someone who knew someone. Now I know too many that have either been on the verge, tried, or even succeeded. Not only do I know people, people I love, I have been there myself. Talk to people. Tell them you care. Be available to talk. But you know what? You need to understand that if someone is truly intent on killing themselves, they are going to find a way. You can try with all your heart to prevent it, but they will just get crafty. They may even convince you that they are fine now so you start to relax and give them some space. The next day they are just gone.

It is NOT your fault. They are responsible for their own actions. You did NOT fail. Their own mind failed them. It convinced them that the only way to end their suffering was to end their existence. You cannot fight someone else’s inner demons. You can, however, not create demons of your own over their loss.
Please let them go. Feel sad that they lost their battle. Honor their memory and the love you shared. Understand that none of it was your fault. You cannot fight an enemy you cannot see. No one can truly see the inner workings of another’s mind. All you can really do is protect and nurture your own.

Where Has the Time Gone

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My grandfather, Russell Fisher. A career Marine who served in WWII.

Yes, I watched the Royal wedding. Not only did I watch that one, but by staying up the whole night before Prince Harry wed, I was able to watch three other royal weddings as a prelude. Don’t judge me. I’m a history fan. Though the prince will never be king, assuming an asteroid doesn’t come down and take out the five people in line before him, I still like to get a glimpse of those people who personify the distant past. Specifically, Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip. I greatly admire both the Queen and her husband, but seeing them this time was a little different for me.

Intellectually, I understand that the Queen is 92 years old and the prince is 96, but in my heart, he is still the swashbuckling naval officer and she is still the young woman who so valiantly served her country in war. Though only a princess at the time, she enlisted in the Women’s Auxiliary Territorial Service (ATS) when she was 18 even though she was heir to the throne. As a result, she is also the only head of state in the world who served in World War II. We see that same grit in her grandsons, both veterans themselves.

And yet, upon seeing the obvious fragility of both queen and prince, I was struck by the heartbreaking realization that we will soon be reaching the end of an era. It was only 7 years ago that we said goodbye to the last surviving WWI veteran. Now, it appears that all too soon, we will losing our WWII veterans as well.

P.S. for a couple of really awesome pics of the Queen in service, click here.

For the Love of this Country

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Johnny Clem

Johnny Clem

When I was a little girl, two of my favorite things to do with my stepdad were to go to yard sales with him on Saturday mornings followed by a stop at the donut shop, and listen to Paul Harvey’s program, “The Rest of the Story” on the radio. Now that I’m a mom and grandma, I’ve continued this yard sale tradition with my own family though I have trouble finding Paul Harvey anymore.

A couple of weeks ago, while “saleing” with my daughter, I came across a fascinating book called, A Treasury of Civil War Tales: Unusual, Interesting Stories of the Turbulent Era When Americans Waged War on Americans by Webb Garrison. (Rutledge Hill Press, 1988) One of the stories in this book was about the young drummers and buglers on both sides of the war that served during the American Civil War. All of these boys were under 18 with one very special one being only nine years old. Here is his story…

After being told that the U.S. Army was not “enlisting infants”, John Lincoln Clem went from command to command in his attempt to serve his country. He finally found a home with the Twenty-second Michigan unit not as a member but as a mere tagalong. The men liked the boy though and before long they were “passing the hat each month to collect thirteen dollars for Johnny’s pay.” The men even found him an old drum and Johnny “became a Union drummer boy in every respect except for official enrollment.” However, once the real fighting began and by the time of Shiloh, he was enrolled. The newspapers made Johnny famous calling him “Johnny Shiloh”. Before long “Johnny Clem came to be admired throughout the North and hated everywhere in the South.”

“At Chickamauga, Johnny was a sight to see,” said an aide to Major General George H. Thomas. “When we decided to move in and break the Confederate siege, Johnny rode a caisson to the battle line. He waved a musket that someone had trimmed down to size for him…a Rebel chased the piece of artillery on which Johnny rode…he (the Rebel) shouted out, ‘Surrender, you damned little Yankee!’ Johnny Clem didn’t say a word. He just raised his sawed-off musket and took the fellow down.”

Now Johnny was touted as the “drummer boy of Chickamauga”.

Perhaps he had had enough of the horrors of battle and bloodshed, but a few months after this battle, Johnny left the field to become “a courier for the rest of the war.” When the war was over, Johnny applied to West Point “but couldn’t qualify because his education had ended during the third grade.” Never one to give up, Johnny appealed this decision.

When “General U.S. Grant, who had been Johnny’s commander at Shiloh” and was now the U.S. President heard of Johnny’s plight, he personally “bypassed the U.S. Military Academy” and gave him a Presidential appointment to “second lieutenant in the U.S. Army in December of 1871.”

In the immortal words of Paul Harvey, “and now, the rest of the story”…

The nine year-old drummer boy who just wouldn’t quit spent fifty-five years in the uniform of a United States soldier. He retired in 1916 as a Major General.

Fireworks and This Combat Veteran

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fireworksOk. I was wrong. The conclusion of my last blog has been blown out of the water. To be honest, I’m glad. I’m glad that most people are not living in fear and jumping at every car backfire.

As a combat veteran, there is a special way I go about enjoying fireworks every year with my family. It has a lot to do with grounding myself in reality and in the present. To do this, I use what I call a “grounding point”; something, anything that did not and could not have existed during my combat service. When I’m feeling uncomfortable, I reassure myself by looking at this thing.

This year my grounding point was my youngest daughter. To know her is to know happiness and joy. She has a smile for everyone. But the best part about her? She did not exist and in no way reflects my combat service. Therefore, if she is with me and I can see her, then I am grounded solidly in the present.

The fireworks this year started like any others. They were beautiful and one even looked like Saturn! How they do that is beyond me. Anyways, things were good. I had a little trouble, as always, with the flash bangs, those that go up and then just boom with a bright ball of light, but my daughter casually reached over and held my hand. A little extra “grounding”. And then, toward the end of the fireworks, someone thought it would be funny to set off some kind of firecrackers in the parking lot. Whatever these firecrackers were, they sounded exactly like automatic rifle fire. And they were coming not from the fireworks in front of me but from my right flank. I’m not afraid or ashamed to admit that I freaked and all thought of any “grounding point” was gone.

I immediately began to assess the threat when I realized that my family was with me. What the hell were they doing here? Total confusion set it. The soldier in me wanted to move toward the threat to better assess yet the parent in me wanted to get my family out of there. How in the hell could I be both at the same time? All my life the two things had been separate. Any threats I had faced had been oceans away from my family. Two different worlds.
I looked around at the people around us only to find them happily watching the continuing fireworks show. No one else appeared threatened. As I was trying to process and understand this observation, the finale began. The continuous booms and flashing lights left me a huddled, confused mess on the blanket until it ended. I do believe we were the first ones out of the parking lot.

Once home, my daughter came in to talk to me. She told me that after those firecrackers in the parking lot, she couldn’t enjoy the rest of the show. She said that with everything going on in the world, she just felt like a target sitting out there on the grass.

So the threats aren’t oceans away anymore. They are here and her fear is real though it saddens me. No one else seemed concerned. Have I done this to her? And now I have to also wonder…how will I be able to continue to take my family to public places while the soldier wars with the parent leaving both unable to function?

And back to therapy I go…..

Why Everyone Should Understand Combat PTSD

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dsc_0002Though I did mention PTSD Awareness Day earlier this month on our Facebook page, it would appear that I let the day go by on this blog without a single mention. It’s true. Part of the reason is that I was busy with a couple of medical and mental health crises within my own family, but mostly, I think having a “day” for PTSD Awareness or even a “month” is simply ridiculous.

PTSD is all around us, People. If you aren’t aware of it by now then you need to crawl out from under the rock you have been living under and join the human race. Believe it or not, I’m betting that a lot of people who have never served in combat are beginning to get a little understanding of a small part of combat PTSD.

With all of the shootings aimed at civilian gathering places around the world, a simple car backfire outside a venue could cause mass panic and a stampede towards exits. At the very least, a backfire will cause people to jump and tense. It can’t be helped. It is an instantaneous reaction, without thought, to a threat that is real or perceived. So welcome to a little slice of combat PTSD. There’s your awareness for the month.

Later in July, we plan to bring you some tips and advice on staying safe in this crazy world. Check back with us every Wednesday so you don’t miss a thing!

Please continue to support your veterans.

Veteran’s Day

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The daughter of my daughter in my story. At the age of 5, she is welcoming home her daddy from his most recent deployment. She is as tough as her momma.

The daughter of my daughter in my story. At the age of 5, she is welcoming home her daddy from his most recent deployment. She is as tough as her momma.

As we honor our veterans today, let us also remember that November is the National Month of the Military Family. Personally, I think that’s awesome timing.

As a combat veteran myself from a war that did not result in the institution of a draft, all the praise and “thank you’s” honestly make me a little uncomfortable. I’m a veteran of an all volunteer military force. I LOVED my job. Yes, I chose to do that job in service to my country. I love this country and was proud to serve it. Yes, I’m glad that there are people who couldn’t/didn’t serve who are thankful for the freedoms that we protect but when it comes right down to it, I could have chosen not to serve as well. That’s just one of the many freedoms we enjoy here in the United States of America. There is no compulsory service in peacetime as there is in other countries. As a matter of fact, our volunteer force is so large that you wouldn’t want to see the war that would require another draft.

BUT there is a group within the military community who don’t/didn’t have a choice. They are our children. They are the ones who deserve your thanks so much more. They give up their parents on a routine basis. Their dad or mom leaves for months on end and that child does not know if they will EVER see them again. Just imagine being that child. How would you tell your mom or dad “goodbye”? Well, I can tell you how mine did it. I was standing in the airport crying my eyes out as I was putting my little girls on a plane with their grandmother. As she was about to board the plane, my daughter came running back to me without a tear in her eye. I knelt down to her level, she put her little hand on my cheek and said these words…”Don’t worry about me, Mommy. You just go and be a good soldier.” With that she hugged me and ran back to board. That, Ladies and Gentlemen, is a hero.

So, the next time you see the child of a veteran, could you thank them, too? Let them know how much you appreciate that child’s sacrifice. A simple “thanks for supporting your mom/dad’s service” would mean an awful lot.