Good Morning, Angels

As a woman of many hobbies and interests it's easy for me to stretch myself too thin from wanting to do too much for too many - too many people, too many reasons, too many times. In the seven years I've been married to my British import, as I refer to my husband, Graham, I have learned the art of slowing down and, as a result, have been able to better prioritize the giving of my talents. Having changed churches - topic for another blog - I pretty much withdrew all my talent and stored it until I knew where it needed to be channeled.

That's when my Mary Kay consultant's monthly sale email caught my eye as she was sending one of everything purchased to a group called Soldiers' Angels, and I took a look at the site http://www.soldiersangels.org/.

Soldiers' Angels is a not for profit organization fueled solely by volunteers and whose one mission is to show love and support for our armed forces. This is not about politics. I repeat, not about politics. This is about men and women who have chosen the military as their vocation and for those who wish to show them support while they serve. There's also options to support our veterans as well.

Forms of support include adopting a soldier and committing to one to two letters a week and two care packages a month to your adoptee. A care package might include some books or magazines, some stationery and pens. Other support options are making blankets for vets, the wounded or those serving, and if you're not into a regular commitment at this time, you can send anyone of the care packages from the Angel Store to "Any Soldier" and the best part, your donation is tax deductible! Actually the very best part is that you will be making the day of a soldier who will appreciate your kindness more than you'll ever know.

All the details about Soldiers' Angels can be found at their site, which I hope you'll visit. It's really all about showing some love, and I don't mean as a dating site which you'll be advised of if you adopt a soldier, but instead, to have mail at mail call and sometimes help out a soldier who is not receiving any mail at all.

For me, having an adoptee, currently an Army guy, to support, and committing to crocheting a lap blanket for a Vet for Christmas has given me a sense of purpose. Especially with what is happening here at home, with Mom's Cancer and the family dynamics which simultaneously save and trouble me. Somehow, knowing that my soldier is my responsibility and I can feel good about the few minutes my letters or cards or packages can distract or relax him when he's off duty, it makes me feel good and it takes me away from my worries, too. If only for a little while.

Starting Line Up

I'm a little slow to the starting line up when it comes to blogging, at least in regards to writing a blog, but I've been trolling them on the Net forever. I did have a few false starts which I hope have been gracefully swept from the Net like unwanted virtual dust bunnies or they'll haunt me as I try to make this attempt.

See, originally I would start writing and then think that perhaps my life just wasn't worth talking about, that no one would find what I have to say to be very interesting. Then I got to thinking about how my life has been super twisty and turny lately and that perhaps I could use blogging as a way to share, among other things, my care taker role for my mom who is living with ovarian cancer, my life as the wife of an Englishman who is super funny and not at all your typical Brit, a wanna be writer whose dreams have found feet and walked away, or ran away, from home, and me as a fat chick who has to face my freakish BMI now that cancer and I are having a stare down.

So today is different. Today I'm off and running. Inspired by The Daily Coyote http://dailycoyote.blogspot.com/ and some other blog-hers, it seemed high time I should be writing again. I say again because in my former life, before I hooked up with an addict - not the man I know call my hubby; he's a keeper - and before I let myself go to heck in hand basket health wise, I fancied myself a writer. Someone even paid me to write; someone with a real newspaper and a real paycheck exchanged money with me for my articles and I was, if for a brief span of time, an honest to goodness freelance writer. This happened because at one time I was fearless and said to heck with it, I'm going to send in my writing samples and see if they will hire me. And sure it was only coverage for a little town and sure I was always being chided for not having an accompanying photo with my article, but I had bylines and I was interviewing and I was good at it!

So today as I was driving to sit with my step dad while my mom recovers from her second cancer surgery this year I was stopped at a light when my mind wandered, as it often does, to other thoughts outside of where I was going and how I should be paying attention to the road in order to get there safely. This thought was, 'When exactly did my dreams die? When did they take they're final breath and just give up the ghost?'. I couldn't exactly pinpoint when my writing aspirations went South but I realized I wanted to call them back, to apologize and tell them I would be happy for them to come visit again and maybe even hang out for awhile and remind me what was so great about us, together. I'd really like to see those dreams again and work out our issues, maybe even hook up and go out and be seen and be known together. I would like that, I think, and belly laughter just might be how I get the dream back.