September 11

I stopped by the Tempe Healing Field on my way home from work this afternoon.

I love it there.

I mean, I love it! I always love Tempe Town Lake, but there's something about the Healing Field that speaks to my very soul. The flags, alphabetized and organized by building and/or occupation both break my heart and bring me immeasurable peace. The haunting sound of Taps floating over a quiet, still group of people as they pause to pay respect to those for whom it is being played is something that I hope I never forget.

        
The Pentagon section had boots placed at the foot of several of the flags.

Upon closer inspection, the boots were donated by servicemen and women.

(I wonder if the man who wore these boots knew Hawkeye Pierce? ... You know I can't think about the Korean war without thinking about M*A*S*H. And I can't think about M*A*S*H without sighing a deep sigh over my favorite military doctor of all time. ... And yes, before anyone calls the authorities, I do know that Hawkeye is a fictional character. But a girl can dream.)

My favorite moment of the afternoon came as I was walking out of the WTC1 area. There was a group of volunteers, helping someone look for a specific flag/bio. I had overheard them talking, saying "It's W-E-I, not W-I-E..." as they meandered through the W's, looking for a specific flag. I walked right up to a flag on the outside of the field and picked up the bio. Weingard. I held it out, and called, "Are you looking for Scott Jeffrey Weingard? Because, if you are, I've found him." A sweet old man turned and smiled and made his way across the field to the flag representing his friend. The group thanked me. I smiled and said that I was happy to help. As I turned to leave the field, I heard the older gentleman say, under his breath, "I used to babysit him." ... Cue the tears.

May we never forget that day. May we never forget them. ... Ever.

Where were you?

I was getting ready for work on September 11, 2001 when my mom came in and told me that she had turned on the TV just in time to see the second tower hit. My grandad had called from CA and told her to turn the TV on. I'd come out of the hall bathroom when she called my name from the kitchen, and I fell against the wall in shock when I heard the news. After a few stunned moments, I picked myself up and finished going about the business of getting ready for work. I listened to the radio as I drove to Show Low. I was at the Shumway curve when the Pentagon was hit and I thought my heart would break from the combined feelings of loss and fear. I was at work, huddled in a circle around a radio, when the news came in about Flight 93. ... To this day, I can't get through the 4th verse of America the Beautiful without flashing back to how I felt that day. "How beautiful for patriot dream that sees beyond the years. Thine alabaster cities gleam, undimmed by human tears!" has a special meaning to me now.

This morning, 10 years later, I went down to Tempe Town Lake to see the Healing Field. It was, in a word, breathtaking.



There are flags flown for every person who died that day, and attached to each flag is a name and a brief bio.



I weep.

When I got there, first responders and service people were reading the names of those who perished. After the final salute, they opened the reading of names to volunteers. I had the privilege of reading 20 names.



Amazingly, I made it through all 20 without breaking.

The park was full of people. Citizens, airline employees, civil servants, every branch of the service was represented... But he was my favorite.



This man stood at attention through the entire service, not moving a muscle. He stood as a sentinel, mid-point in front of the sea of flags, reminding me - and everyone else - of the heroism and bravery that was shown on that day by the NYFD.

I'm a mess of emotions today. I'm grateful for the bravery and selflessness shown by so many on that day, 10 years ago. I am - we all are - indebted to the crew and passengers of Flight 93. (How much worse could it have been? I shudder at the thought.) I am humbled by the civil servants who willingly walked (ran) into harm's way to save the people in NYC on that horrible, awful day. I am full of grief for those who lost friends, family - loved ones - on that day and in the days that followed. I am filled with love of God and love of country.

May we always remember.

Happy Independence Day!

Oh. My. Stars.

Watch this. Right now!



I've always had a soft spot in my heart for lawyers. (I kid. ... Sort of.)

I heart Francis Scott Key. (Always have. The man had a way with words. You know how that gets me.) I can get through the first verse okay, but the second verse slays me.

"What is that which the breeze, o’er the towering steep, As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses? Now it catches the gleam of the morning’s first beam, In full glory reflected now shines in the stream:’Tis the star-spangled banner, O! long may it wave O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave."

The "as it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses" makes me choke. Every time. The visual imagery that verse brings almost always makes it impossible for me to actually sing the third verse (which is a crying shame - no pun intended - because the third verse is even more beautiful than the first two)!

I'm so grateful for my country, for my heritage, for my freedom ... for the men and women who do and have served in our military ... for the men who died holding the flag while the British bombed Fort Henry.

Oh. My. Stars.

I am so grateful.

Happy Birthday, America! I love you!

Keep your eye on the grand old flag

We all know that I'm a patriotic sap. Music like is is just part of the reason why I get all choked up on the 4th of July.



I'm grateful for parents who made sure I was raised with an awareness that I was being raised in a wonderful country - and for a mother who made darn sure I knew this movie.

I love George Cohan. His music brings joy to my heart and tears to my eyes.

I love my country.

The End.

Memorial Day, I love you so...

I love Memorial Day, because it's a day when our nation focuses inward. We are encouraged to remember and honor our dead - both personal and collective. To me, that is a beautiful thing.

I'm grateful for ancestors whose life choices have shaped mine. I'm grateful for friends who are the support system that keeps me going. I'm grateful for both the home and the town I grew up in. I'm grateful for an awareness that we are all connected. I'm grateful for this country that we live in, this country that I love.

I was looking through the selection of Coming Home pictures this morning on my friend Ree's website, and I was brought to tears. (Listen, Ree and I are friends. Really. We met once at a book signing, and she told me that she loved my hair. That bonded us for life.) If you have some time - and some kleenex- click here and take a look. Looking through this group of photos this morning really struck me as I realized, once again, that we are all connected. I don't know the people who sent in their photos, but I felt a bit of their joy, as well as their sorrow, as I looked through the submissions. I love those life-affirming moments of knowing that our lives touch each other's, that what we say and what we do - that how we live - can have a more far-reaching effect than most of us will ever know.

I'm so grateful for my life. I'm grateful for my country, for the men and women who serve and protect it. I'm grateful for my family - for my parents, and for their parents before them - for the things that they taught me.

Basically (in case you missed it), today, I'm just plain grateful. And a little sappy. (I'm sorry, but it happens.)

Aaaahhhh.... George. I love him!

As you may recall, I just posted from Holiday Inn for Abraham Lincoln's birthday. ... This is how much I love this movie, they celebrate both Lincoln and Washington's birthday. (Oh, to go back in time to 1942. The good ol' days, back before they combined the two men into Presidents Day, when there were two - count them, two - paid/federal holidays in the month of February.) The only bummer is, YouTube doesn't have the Washington's Birthday song up. (It's tragic, truly, because that scene makes me LOL every time.)

In lieu of having yet another Holiday Inn post, I'm just gonna have to tell you (again) to watch the movie. Also, you'll have to deal with me and my sappy patriotic heart telling you, once again, how grateful I am for this country that we live in.

I like to think that anyone who knows me knows that I love this country, my homeland, in a fierce way. Any of you who've been to my home know that I have the Arthur Friberg painting pictured above placed prominently in my living room. I remember the first time I saw that painting (Diana Flake had borrowed it from Allen Ballard's mom - you may remember either or both of those names from this old post - for a visual aid in an oral report she gave when we were in the 8th grade). I so teared up the first time I saw it (I'm pretty sure Di mocked me for that), because I am a sap and beautiful things always make me cry (and I'm pretty sure she mocked me for that, too... but it's okay, because I know only a true friend would mock me for caring so much about stuff that sometimes I can't help but spill over). I can't even explain what the knowledge that George Washington was a good, honest and God fearing man does to my heart and soul. Oh, my word. I love him.

Good gravy, I love my country. I'm grateful for the good men and women who have sacrificed their possessions, their time, and sometimes their lives for the good of our nation, and for the freedoms of future generations. I'm so grateful for our first president, for the man who was known as "the president most likely to be found praying" (it's true - I found that online today and it made me smile).

And now that I'm worn out from all this fervent talk of patriotism, and I'm cried out because I just can't even think about how grateful I am for my freedom and for this country without getting all sappy and tearing up, I need some sustenance. In honor of George, I think I'll go and make a cake. Yup, for breakfast. I think I'll frost it and then use my red, white and blue sugar sprinkles so I can feel especially patriotic today. I think Mr. Washington would like a breakfast party being thrown in his honor, don't you? (Even if he wouldn't, I know I would. And it's my house. Pretty much, any time cake's on the horizon, life's looking good here in Casa Evans.)

Happy Birthday, George. I love you, man!

Upon a Feburary morn, a tiny baby boy was born ... Abraham

I woke up with this song in my head. I heart memories of watching Holiday Inn and singing along with this song (and many others). Interestingly enough, when I went to YouTube to grab this little beaut, there was all kinds of commentary on whether this was a racist song/clip. Huh... Never in my life had I considered this song racist. The blond girl in black face is a little ridiculous, I'll give you that. (But if you know the story, you know Bing was just trying to "hide" her from a rival who he was afraid would sweep her off her feet and away from him.)

And if you don't know this movie. Well, you should. It's so one of my all time faves. Call me. Stop by. Borrow the dvd and invite me over to watch it with you. I'll bring popcorn and/or cookies. It'll be the best day of your life.

In the meanwhile, there are not words for how grateful I am for Abraham Lincoln and all he did for our country. Happy Birthday, Abe. I love you!

Thank you.

On Veteran's Day, I am grateful.

I am grateful for my life, for my freedom, for my country.

I am grateful for the soldiers, throughout American history, who have fought to preserve those freedoms for me.

May God bless them, may He continue to bless all of us.

Eight years gone...

It's crazy to me, how fast time can go by. Crazy. Eight years ago, as I was getting ready for work, my mom came into the living room and said "Laur, you need to come and look at the tv". She told me what had happened, and I fell against the wall. I couldn't even stand. ... That day. Oh, my goodness. I was probably the weepiest I've been in my life. I remember exactly where I was when I heard on the radio that the Pentagon had been hit, and my mind immediately queued the 4th verse of America, the Beautiful ("O' beautiful for patriot dream that sees beyond the years. Thine alabaster cities gleam, undimmed by human tears.") and I was comforted that, although the Pentagon had been hit, it still stood. As the day went by, we sat around a radio at work - not working, but listening. Listening and waiting - for news, wondering who had done this, and why.

Eight years later, I am brought to tears by the memory of that day. Tears of sadness, fear and horror, yes. But also tears of gratitude, hope, and patriotism. Oh my word, I love my country. I ache for the people around the country (and world, really) who, today, have an anniversary of loss. Please, let us never forget all of the men and women who died that day. Let us never forget to enjoy the freedoms that are ours, I pray.

To finish the 4th verse, "America, America, God shed His grace on thee, and crown thy good with brotherhood, from sea to shining sea"

Aahhhhh.... the anvil.

This is the 4th of July to me.

I love my hometown, I really do. And the fact that they start lighting the anvil at 4:00 AM as they drive through town, waking people up with both the kaboom of the anvil and the patriotic music that comes from the band, makes me so happy that I can't help but cry.

I'm so glad that I grew up in Taylor, where the whole town celebrates the 4th and three generations of kids come home for the celebration. I'm so glad that my parents follow the anvil every year, not only because they love to take pictures, but also because they love being caught up in the fervor that both tradition and patriotism bring out in them. I'm so glad that I woke up with Stars & Stripes Forever blaring in my head on the morning on the 4th of July. (I'm so glad that I know what Stars & Stripes Forever even is... Gosh, I love music.)

I love the anvil. I love Taylor. I love America.

The End.

God bless America, land that I love...

Ladies and Gentlemen, it's July!

I love July. I love it, because just saying it feels like summer to me. Most of the trips we took as kids were in July, so many good movies come out in July, most swim parties and BBQ's and other fun family stuff seems to take place in July. And I love July, because I love my country - and we celebrate Independence Day in July. This time of year, July is my favorite month. (Ask me again in the fall and you'll get a different answer, but in the summer... Gosh, I love July.)

I've been thinking a lot this week about my childhood, my family, my hometown. I have so many great memories of celebrations of the 4th - from chasing the anvil when we were home, to eating homemade ice cream on Grammy & Grandad's porch as we watched the fireworks from Stadium of Fire if we were in Utah that week.

One of the things I've been most grateful for this week is patriotic music. I love music (LOVE IT), and the patriotic music that is in my head (and in my heart) makes me happy. I'm so incredibly grateful that I grew up when I did, where I did, back in the day that teachers had pianos in their classrooms and we said the pledge and sang a song every day. I thank Mrs. Tubbs, Mrs. Rencher and Mrs. Jarvis for so many lyrics that are in my head. We sang patriotic songs in church last Sunday, and I love that I don't need a hymnal to sing along with My Country, Tis of Thee, The Star Spangled Banner, or The Battlehymn of the Republic.

This morning, I woke up singing God Bless America in my head. The older I get, I can hardly sing it because I am such a patriotic sap that I tear up so dang much, but still... I love it.

For those of you who weren't lucky enough to have Mrs. Tubbs as a 2nd grade teacher and have this song committed to memory, I give you the lyrics.

God bless America,
land that I love.
Stand beside her, and guide her
thru the night with a light from above.
From the mountains, to the prairies,
to the ocean, white with foam.

God bless America, my home, sweet home.

The older I get, the more I feel that this song is every bit as much prayer as it is music, and I thank Irving Berlin, once again, for his musical contributions to the world I live in. I do love my country. I love the flag and all it represents. I love July. God bless America, land that I love...

Feelin' the love on Memorial Day...

To all the men & women who've sacrificed so very much that I could have the freedoms I enjoy, I thank you. From the very bottom of my soft & squishy, ooey-gooey patriotic heart, I thank you.

You know how I do love me a good mini-series...

The upside of being sick and flat out on the couch for the last 36 hours is that I've spent 8 of those with our founding fathers.

This was one of my favorite scenes in the John Adams HBO mini-series. I'm more grateful now for the freedoms I enjoy than I have been in quite some time. (And that's something that I like to think I spend a lot of energy on in the first place.) I love America, love her with all my heart and soul, and hope there isn't anyone who knows me who doesn't know that about me.

I tear up, just thinking about how glorious and amazing, really, our country's beginnings were. I'm so incredibly grateful for men and women who sacrificed so many things, on so many levels, that we might have the freedoms that we enjoy. "God save our American States", is right.

I love-love-loved this mini-series, even if I was a little too braindead to pay the kind of strict attention it merited. If you have a chance to see it, please do. John Adams would want you to know what they did for us, what he personally sacrificed, that we may have our independence. Oh, this story was a beautiful thing, and the series was incredibly well done.

PS - If I were pregnant right now, and I knew it was a girl (two more ridiculous "what if's" have probably never come out of me, but if I were, and it was), I'm telling you right now that I'd name that baby Abigail, after Abigail Adams. Seriously, I loved her spunk, her wisdom, her long suffering, and her all encompassing love of her husband. (Besides, I think Abby's a cute little nickname.)

A Word

And the word is thanks. Thanks to all of the men and women who have fought for my freedom, both on land and at sea, during peace and war times. I'm so incredibly grateful for the country that I live in, for the freedoms that I enjoy, that I was privileged to be born here and raised by parents who taught me by word and example to love God and Country. My life is so amazingly and richly blessed, and at the top of the list of the things that I'm grateful for (and we all know that I am a lover and maker of lists, so I'm not kidding when I say that I have one...), is this country and the people who protect it. Many thanks to all who have served, in any and all capacities. Thank you, thank you, thank you - and may God continue to bless America.