What I Learned During Spring Break

Halfway through Spring Break and today is the first day I've been able to sleep past 8. Busy, busy, busy doing things that weren't in the initial plans of doing NOTHING this Spring Break. Everything I did was something I wanted to do, though, so I'm not griping.

Saturday morning I got up early to help with my sweet friend Bonnie's 80th birthday. She is the mother of "my friend" Phyllis, the grandma of Meg's friend Dana and the great grandmother of Reid's friend Leyton. Also in attendance was Phyllis' sister, Susan, who hosted the Granny Camp last spring. Along with her were her daughter, grand daughter and newborn twin grandsons. On the other end of the age continuum were about 30 of Bonnie's friends there, equaling about two thousand years of wisdom in one room. Precious, precious women whom I've known for years and have provided an example of love, devotion to family and friendship that I hope to emulate in my life.

The rest of the weekend included another birthday party that evening, a sleepover for 2 little friends, a trip to the Botanic Gardens to see the butterfly exhibit and then a drive to OK Sunday afternoon. We took our 2 little friends with us to see B and we spent the night there in a hotel after visiting and playing lasar tag and arcade games. The next morning we went back to play more games and do all sorts of go-kart, bumper car, rock climbing fun. Couldn't have been a better trip for 2 little boys! I didn't even make them take a shower! I know, I'm the best ever, they told me. I try to be modest, but it's hard to in the face of cold hard facts.

Tuesday my break took a different turn. A dear friend lost her father. We have been friends since high school and Kenny is like a son to her parents. He will drop everything and run to their house if they need him. Mr. Gadberry had been ill for quite some time and had been in the hospital for about a month. They brought him home Saturday and he died peacefully, in his bed, with his family, Sunday morning. As hard as losing a loved one is, there would be no better way for it to happen.

The funeral was Tuesday morning. I'm struggling on how exactly to phrase this, but I enjoy funerals. Not in a "this is FUN" way, and certainly not a child's or someone who lost their life tragically. When it is for someone who has lived their life fully and reached a time when death is a release, though, I like the fact that on that day, no matter how cantankerous, strange or whatever you were, folks shine a different light on those traits and it puts a smile on every one's face. I like the sweet memories people share. For me, it's also a time that reveals parts of the person's past that I may not have known before. That was the case yesterday.

Remember I grew up in the 60's and 70's. Daddies worked and Moms, even if they worked outside the home, took care of kid stuff. It wasn't unusual for me to know little about my friend's father because, honestly, I didn't know much about a lot of dads. I knew he was a letter carrier and he had a man cave before man caves were cool (and, of course, he didn't call it that). I wish I had known more about him. I wish I had known that he could speak 5 languages. I wish I had known that as a soldier during WWII, right out of high school, he was in the OSS, the predecessor to the CIA. I wish I had known that he was one of the first 5 Americans to enter Hiroshima after the bomb was dropped, there to collect intelligence. I wish that I had known that his picture appeared in Life magazine, as he guarded Prime Minister Tojo of Japan who was being tried for war crimes. One man, so much history. Instead of coming home and writing a book, appearing on Oprah and doing a lecture tour, he came home, got a job, married and started a family. The humble way he lived his life is just as inspiring as his patriotic service. Maybe I was a little too self centered to realize this, but what he did was not unusual for his generation. Nearly everyone served, came home and lived with an attitude of personal responsibility and devotion to their country. It made me wonder how many stories are out there. The men who pass the offering plate at church. The gentlemen who stand in line with you at the grocery store or walking at the mall. What are their stories?

So, in death, I know more about De Gadberry than I ever did while he was living. At the graveside, after taps, the soldiers slowly and deliberately folded the flag that had draped his casket, saluted it and knelt before his wife to hand it to her. It was so beautiful, so emotional and so meaningful. I felt like I finally understood the kind of patriotism that he and so many like him felt.