Heroes I Most Admire Part 1 of 2

Of course I admire Mother Teresa, firefighters, soldiers, etc. I admire those who have dedicated their lives to helping others. Most of us do. Not everyone admires soldiers, unfortunately. Times are changing but I was a teen during Viet Nam & I know how soldiers were reviled. My first ex is a soldier & so is my only son. Even if that weren't the case, I'd admire soldiers. I admire their families just as much as I admire them, especially their mothers. I can't begin to tell you what it's like to have your child in danger for X number of months in a foreign country, the daily stress & toll that takes on you. My son spent his 18th & then 21st birthdays in Iraq, did 2 tours of duty as a gunner & driver of those armed vehicles, ever on the lookout for IEDs & traps. I admire the strength & courage of each family member & how we/they support our soldiers. We make cookies, send Christmas decorations (his birthday is close to Christmas), send cards & supplies & letters & every little thing we can so they'll have reminders of our love to carry with them. For his first tour I made him sand scarves & sent one around the country like a chain letter to family members so they'd sign it. They passed it from one state to another until it came back to me to send to him. The other one I filled with supportive Bible verses about God's Love & Protection. During his second tour, I made wool helmet liners. I think I sent about 24 total, so that he & his closest friends could have as many as they needed & give the rest to some of the other guys. Both times I sent Christmas decorations & a huge variety of cookies. I sent off boxes of goodies periodically. I wrote to him daily during his first tour, adding a little to a letter each day so I'd have enough to send once or twice a week. That's pretty hard when you lead a very quiet life! The second time was different because we were both different by then & so was our relationship. The second time he didn't want a lot of contact with home, didn't want the reminder & distraction. In many ways that was harder on me because I didn't hear from him as often either. Both times I found creative ways to stay self-comforting. I tied yellow ribbons everywhere. The second time, I painted fireworks, because I wanted to explode when I heard he was going again. Then I painted him as a young boy, on a day we all went out just to play in a stream. I planted peace roses & yellow roses & lilies & snapdragons - yellow in every variety of flower I planted that year. I still have the lilies & snapdragons, since they're perennials. I wore my cross necklace every day, & a locket I bought just before he went the second time, with his picture in it from when he got back from his first tour. Of course it has my daughter too, & was a true find - the front is a cameo of a mother holding a baby. I also wore a bracelet he'd given me. And every day I prayed for him, his best friends, his company. Yep, it takes a lot to survive being the mother of a soldier. It still brings tears to my heart to write this, & he's been back for about 3 years now.

I also admire policemen, & many don't. Many fear them. I don't. I understand them. They're people who put their lives on the line just like firefighters, to help save people from harm. Although I really never knew my father, he spent his working years as a cop, a detective, then chief of the detective bureau. It was cool to receive newspaper articles quoting him, with his photo, from his father. He lived in Portland, Oregon & I lived all the way across the US from him, didn't even "meet" him until I was 13. I saw him up until I was 2, then when I was 13 (2 weeks), 16 (2 days), 21 (1 week), 24 (2 days), 26 (1 day), & 48 (1 week). He died when I was 49. I went West 3 times for extended visits he paid for, & he came East 3 times, twice for conferences he didn't really need to attend & once for my wedding. My father therefore isn't one of my heroes. My heroes are those parents who are truly there for their children, no matter what. Those who make the effort to give of themselves, their time, attention, & love. None of us are perfect at it, but the ones who don't smother but give unconditionally are heroes in my eyes.

I also admire dedicated teachers & babysitters. Mrs. Evelyn Attick, my 4th grade teacher, is one of my heroes, in my top 10. In the early 60s she recognized my need in my acting out in her class at the beginning of the school year. Back then child abuse was a "don't ask, don't tell" thing. There was no mandatory reporting or even much awareness. Without ever saying a word, she taught me that I was lovable as is & that I didn't have to act out to get attention. School became a haven & the classroom a place of constant, unconditional love. She then taught me to think for myself. She had higher expectations for me than she had for most of the other kids as far as that was concerned & she expressed it to me. She especially taught me to try things like prunes for myself rather than going with "group think" & that Friday the 13th could be something lucky if I chose for it to be. She cemented it by telling me she was born on Friday, the 13th. Her great belief in me led me to believe in myself & it always stuck with me. She expected more out of me so I expected the best out of me. That's the first time I was given the idea that I'm gifted & talented. I don't remember much of my childhood but I remember many things about her & that school year. I'm now writing through tears. I remember the last day of school. I was the last to leave the classroom, crying because I couldn't stand to leave her & not see her all summer. In one of 2 final gifts, she told me to count down the days until school started again, backwards to the day I'd see her again. That's how I got through the summer. She wasn't there the next year, was dying of cancer. The final gift was talking to my 5th grade teacher, putting me in his care. I only became aware of that this month, & that her heart was breaking too the last day I saw her. Remember, I'm able to talk with spirits & receive messages. I've talked with her many times over the years. I also briefly had a babysitter named Donna, who loved me unconditionally. I was abruptly sent to another sitter when I finally felt safe enough to tell her about my home life. The first time I was isolated from anyone who tried to help me, my mother moved us from Ohio to Pennsylvania when my grandmother (her mother) tried to intervene. Of course my mother is also not one of my heroes.

I admire dreamers, forward thinkers, those who dare. So I admire my son, greatly. He goes after what he wants, no matter how often that changes. He tried doing stand up comedy, has done some writing, worked at having a band, has written some great music, has taken voice lessons & instrument lessons. He had an idea to start a wind farm, & was working on that. I also truly admire his heart, his spirit, his drive, his creativity. He's not afraid to show his love, for his mother, his fiance, his father, animals, his baby sister, his big sister, his friends. He's going to be a wonderful husband & father because of that heart.

I admire healers, energy workers, & light workers, but not the educated professionals except nurses. Doctors tend to have egos that get in the way. Nurses are overworked & under appreciated & I've known several. From them I have a good idea of why they end up burnt out & having to quit to survive. I admire metaphysical healers & energy workers, light workers because we all do it strictly to benefit others & it all comes from the deepest part of our hearts & souls.