Lost in the Land of the Undiagnosed

Sometimes I feel lost. Lost behind the world of the diagnosed.

There are no fundraisers for me. No walks, no T-shirts, bracelets or ribbons. I am the lost within the lost. Aren’t we all in some respect? Trapped by our bodies and lost to the world. A Spoonie KNOWS what it feels like to cry in that hidden crook, lie about how we feel, and watch the world leave us behind. The feelings of loss lead us to a path into the lost.

But what of those that have no name? We have no answer for friends who care enough to really hear the answer to,” How are you doing?” We come across as liars. More so with each month, year, or decade that float by leaving nothing but a wake of pain in its path. We loose more and more friends. Those that were steadfast for 10 long years finally throw in the towel. We are convinced that these are the reason, which at least is what we think.

Okay, enough with the “our”, this is painfully with a self involved touch, about me. Perhaps I am alone in feeling this way.

I find kinship here in the boards. I know I am not alone in my suffering. And for that I will forever be grateful. But I admit the green monster that creeps in my shadow. He’s envious of the organized fundraisers and wishes he could have a name. He is Envy. And he makes an ugly person of me. On the days he sticks his head out, I am nasty. I may be snappy or rude, but I am ALWAYS jealous and angry about being jealous instead of supportive. Even writing it makes me feel like I’ve an ugly heart.

How come I can not find it in me to just be glad to have the sisterhood? The one’s offering an ear or hug or spoon. And like schizoid-typo, I am both. I wish I could walk for Lupus and MS; while in kind, I long for recognition for MY mystery. It is just as real, but how does one address the invisible? How can I get to healing myself when I’ve no idea what’s wrong.

It’s autoimmune they say. Those are neurological symptoms they say. But you are an enigma is the written diagnosis for me. Hurrah! I’ve not only felt lost behind those with a name, but I’ve lost my friends. I’ve lost some family. And most disturbingly, I’ve lost doctors who lost patience in my frustrating condition. *sigh* All loss, and lost.

Why on earth should I be jealous of a named chronic condition? Why do I crave it so? Perhaps I will never know. It just is. But my fellow Spoonies…I will always have love for you and hope to never feel lost in our connections!

Alas, I will continue to creep among the diagnosed. Hopeful for their comfort and financial gain to work that sucker to a cure! All while envious of their Names in the tabloid! These are ugly diseases, but as I’ve learned in here, always existing in beautiful carriers.

Written by Sonja McDaniel

I Didn’t Know…

I didn’t know back then that life would change forever. I didn’t know what pain was then. I didn’t know the sacrifices and allowances I would end up making. I didn’t know my hair could hurt. I didn’t know that I would have to give up the things that brought me the most joy because I just couldn’t do them any more. I didn’t know how my limits would change from one day to the next. I didn’t know I’d have to fight so hard for what I need.

I didn’t know I could be okay with wearing socks that don’t match. I didn’t know I could cry beyond the point of tears. I didn’t know how strong I could be until I was forced to be. I didn’t know I could live for weeks on applesauce and Sprite. I didn’t know I could get lost in Target. I didn’t know I could crack a joke and laugh in the worst of situations because I just couldn’t cry anymore.

I didn’t know I could lose what felt like everything and still feel as though I had everything I need. I didn’t know I could keep going past the end of my rope. I didn’t know that when I felt the most alone and exhausted, someone, somewhere would inspire me to fight one more time. I didn’t know I could sleep 20 hours and still be tired. I didn’t know I could fall asleep anywhere. I also didn’t know I’d regret it when I woke up.

I didn’t know that nothing beats stupid comedies or veggie tales on a bad day. I didn’t know just how much pain I could stand. I didn’t know how desperate I would feel sometimes. I didn’t know how much I’d have to learn. I didn’t know how much I’d have to advocate for myself because there was no one else to fight for me. I didn’t know how good fuzzy socks feel.

I didn’t know I could love God and hate Him at the same time. I didn’t know sometimes prayer would be all I’d have. I didn’t know some of my best friends would be people I’d never met. I didn’t know that I wasn’t alone. I didn’t know doctors could be wrong. I didn’t know that there were others going through this. I didn’t know there was support.

I’d say I wish someone had told me all of these things back then, but I do know I wouldn’t have believed them.

by Agnes Reis

A Songbird Lives On...

There are times when you hear a song that it catches your attention, there are times when it leaves you breathless and there are times it brings you to tears. Watch the story of a "Songbird" whose left us way too early...yet only after her death does her music live on forever.

Thought for the Day...Anger

For every minute you are angry, you lose sixty seconds of happiness. ~Author Unknown

Just Trying to Cope....

Someone shared this with me recently and it says what maybe I try to put into words unsuccessfully each and every day. Though I tweaked it a bit..it pretty much sums up what I have been dealing with for the last several years.

Letter to people without chronic pain, chronic or unknown illness

:

Having chronic pain, chronic or unknown illness means many things change, and a lot of them are invisible. Unlike having cancer or being hurt in an accident, most people do not understand even a little about them and their affects, and of those that think they know, many are actually misinformed.

In the spirit of informing those who wish to understand:

These are the things that I would like you to understand about me before you judge me.

Please understand that being sick doesn’t mean I’m not still a human being. I have to spend most of my day in considerable pain and exhaustion, and if you visit, sometimes I’m not much fun to be with, but I’m still me– stuck inside this body. I still worry about my family, my friends, life and most of the time, I’d like to hear you talk about yours too.

Please understand that being able to stand up for ten minutes doesn’t necessarily mean that I can stand up for twenty minutes or an hour. Riding for 30 minutes today does not mean I can do it for an hour tomorrow. Just because I managed to stand up for thirty minutes yesterday doesn’t mean that I can do the same today. With a lot of diseases you’re paralyzed and can’t move. With this one, it gets more confusing everyday. It can be like a yo yo. I never know from day to day how I am going to feel when I wake up. In most cases, I never know from minute to minute. This is one of the hardest and most frustrating components of unknown illness. You never know what is going to happen next. What is going to hurt or cause you pain.

Please understand that chronic pain is variable. It’s quite possible (for many, it’s common) that one day I am able to walk to the park and back, while the next day I’ll have trouble getting to the next room. Please don’t attack me when I’m ill by saying ” You did it before” or “oh I know you can do this!” If you want me to do something, ask if I can. In a similar vein, I may need to cancel a previous commitment at the last minute. If this happens, please do not take it personally or get angry with me. If you are able, please try to always remember how very lucky you are to be physically able to do all of the things that you can do.

Please try and understand the difference between “happy” and “healthy.” When you’ve got the flu, you probably feel miserable with it, but, I’ve been sick for years. I can’t be miserable all the time. In fact, I do try not being miserable all the time. So, if your talking to me and I sound happy, it means I’m happy. That’s all. It doesn’t mean that I’m not in a lot of pain, or extremely tired, or that I’m getting better, or, any of those things. Please don’t say, “Oh, you’re sounding better!” or “But, you look so healthy!” I am merely coping. I am sounding happy and trying to look “normal.” If you want to comment on that, you’re welcome.

Please understand that the “getting out and doing things” does not make me feel better, and can often make me seriously worse. You don’t know what I go through or how I suffer in my own private time. Telling me that I need exercise, or do some things to “get my mind off of it” may frustrate me to tears and is not correct. If I was capable of doing some things any or all of the time, don’t you think I would? Do you really think this is the life I would choose for myself?

Another statement that hurts is: “You just need to push yourself more, try harder.” Chronic pain or unknown illness can affect the whole body or be localized to specific areas. Sometimes participating in a single activity for a short or a long period of time can cause more damage and physical pain than you could ever imagine. Not to mention the recovery time, which can be intense. You can’t always read it on my face or in my body language. Also, chronic pain and unknown illness may cause secondary depression (wouldn’t you get depressed and down if you were sick constantly for months or years and had no idea why?), but it is not created by depression or anxiety.

Please understand that if I have to sit down, lie down, stay in bed, that probably means that I do have to do it right now. It can’t be put off or forgotten just because I’m somewhere or I in the middle of doing something. Chronic pain does not forgive, nor does it wait for anyone.

If I seem touchy, its probably because I am. It’s not how I try to be or want to be. As a matter of fact, I would like very much to be “normal.” I hope you will try to understand my situation unless you have been in my shoes, but as much as possible, I am asking you to try to be understanding in general.

In many ways I depend on you all— people who are not sick. I need you to visit me when I am too sick to go out. Sometimes I need you to help me with the shopping, cooking or cleaning. I may need you to take me to the doctor or to the store. You are my only link to normalcy. You can help me to keep in touch with the parts of my life that I miss and so wish I could have back one day. In the meantime, I will keep searching for a reason, a cause so then and only then, I can look for solutions and ways to be well once again. I am not willing to give up ..I can only hope that one day soon I can find some answers.

Comfortable in Your Own Skin

I never had a policy; I have just tried to do my very best each and every day. ~Abraham Lincoln


This weekend my son Rhett competed in his first bodybuilding competition. It was a SNBF event held in Gainsville, Georgia.


Per their website ...

The Supernatural Bodybuilding and Fitness Organization (S.N.B.F) was founded in 1996 and is a 100% Drug Free Organization. It was primarily organized to help individuals and/or businesses to focus on healthy lifestyle programs, physical fitness activities, personal empowerment sessions, and spiritual coaching provided through Workshops, Seminars and Competitions. As Drug Free Athletes, we believe the Natural athlete should have a fair place to compete and we have been Blessed to be able to provide this avenue for these athletes. All judges have a background in the fitness industry ranging from natural bodybuilders, doctors (chiropractic and medical), fitness competitors, aerobic instructors, personal trainers, and a variety of ex-professional athletes and many more.

Rhett won the LW Novice, Novice Overall, Men's Open Short Division and battled hard in the Overall finals. Not bad for a first time out and according to him his "only show."

He has worked hard to get himself ready for this show but it did not just start a few months ago. It started many years ago when he was a young kid. Rhett posses something that is rare and special in this day and age. He has the discipline, work ethic and desire that most neither have or strive for in our society. As an athlete all his life he has always had to work harder than most . But the desire to always do his best has been in him from the time he was a small child. From the first time he strapped on the catchers gear behind the plate as a small six year old to his final football game in high school he always given his best. He was always the little kid that had to work harder than others to excel.

He has worked out from the time he entered high school, but over the last few years he has taken it to the next level. As he has told me many times "working out is not work to me it is part of who I am", he enjoys every minute of the time spent in the gym.

A few months ago he decide he wanted to enter a bodybuilding competition just to say I have been able to do that. Yet, as he does everything else, he poured his heart and soul into the preparation. He also wanted to make sure he was competing in an all natural, 100% drug free event. Not an event that not only allows 'steroids" but basically encourages it by the fact that is what everyone does to compete.

Many kids and teenagers go through a stage of experimenting with drugs and alcohol but that has never an issue with Rhett. He has never needed to be part of the crowd or doing something because "everyone else is doing it" type person. His uncle was killed as a result of drinking and driving , something that had a huge impact on Rhett as a young child. Rhett has told me numerous times I will never put myself in that circumstance and he hasn't. He has told me in particular over the last few years, "I will not put anything into my body that is unhealthy, unsafe or illegal." He amazes me everyday with his character and integrity.

He has prepared over the last several months while working full time. going to school full time and still maintaining a 3.96 GPA.

Thank you to all the family and friends who came out and supported him on his special day He really appreciated everyone being there. I am so proud of the remarkable young man that he has become. Not only by what he accomplished this weekend but what he accomplishes everyday. He leads his life with a sense of purpose, goals yet at the same time enjoying life. I could not be prouder to call this young man my son. Am I bragging you bet....love you buddy! Thanks for making me so proud of you! I am blessed.

Intergrity, character and self respect cannot be hunted. It cannot be purchased. It is never for sale. It cannot be fabricated. It comes to us when we are alone, in the quiet moments, in quiet places, when we suddenly realize that, knowing the good, we have done it; knowing the beautiful, we have served it; knowing the truth we have spoken it. We are comfortable in our own skin ~

'I see you. I hear you. And what you say matters to me.'"

This week marked the end of an era of "The Oprah Show". I am not like many who watched every day , hanging on her every word. Yet the times I did tune in I enjoyed the show. I found most of her shows heartwarming and meaningful. She has a way of making you feel like you are part of a conversation, not watching a show. So I decided to tune in for her last two shows and I am very glad I did, again I felt like I was part of a conversation but what she said was very powerful. I only wish people would really take to heart some of her words from that show......

"I've talked to nearly 30,000 people on this show, and all 30,000 had one thing in common: They all wanted validation. If I could reach through this television and sit on your sofa or sit on a stool in your kitchen right now, I would tell you that every single person you will ever meet shares that common desire. They want to know: 'Do you see me? Do you hear me? Does what I say mean anything to you?'

"Understanding that one principle, that everybody wants to be heard, has allowed me to hold the microphone for you all these years with the least amount of judgment. Now I can't say I wasn't judging some days. Some days, I had to judge just a little bit. But it's helped me to stand and to try to do that with an open mind and to do it with an open heart. It has worked for this platform, and I guarantee you it will work for yours. Try it with your children, your husband, your wife, your boss, your friends. Validate them. 'I see you. I hear you. And what you say matters to me.'"

As I sat and listen to her speak these words really hit me and brought me to tears. This is the way we all feel. We want to know we matter, that our words are not falling on deaf ears. That we have some type of worth to ourselves and to others, that we are loved. And that we are loved unconditionally.






This seems so simple, so why is it so hard? A question that haunts the very soul of those who desire to know this feeling of validation. Just to let them know... 'I see you. I hear you. And what you say matters to me.'"

Life's Lessons

I've learned that no matter how much I care some people just don't care back.

I've learned that it takes years to build up trust, and only seconds to destroy it.

I've learned that our background and circumstances may have influenced who we are, but we are responsible for who we become.

I've learned that we are responsible for what we do, no matter how we feel.

I've learned that two people can look at the exact same thing and see something totally different.

I’ve learned that no matter how bad your heart is broken the world doesn’t stop for your grief.

I’ve learned that you can keep going long after you can’t.

Wise Beyond His Years

Below is a letter from a young man who is walking for his hero's , please read and consider donating to his cause.

Dear Friends,

My name is Luke Sliwinski. I am 10 years old. I am a LCPL in Liberty Young Marines. I look forward to serving our country some day in the United States Marine Corps.

I have a HUGE amount of honor and respect our brave troops. It is because of THEM that all of us can live free. I can be what I want, go to whatever church or school that I want, and live safely. They are my Heroes! They sacrifice so much for all of us, and now I want to give back to them.

I am sending this letter to you because I am determined to beat the amount of money that I raised at last years Walk For The Wounded. I raised over $1600 for our Wounded Heroes last year. This year - I KNOW I can beat that.

This year - I plan on walking in honor of a few of my Heroes. I will walk in memory of fallen Hero 1st Lt. Travis Manion. I walk in honor of my Hero Cpl. Todd Love. I will walk in honor of my Hero Cpl. Ronny Porta. I will walk in honor of my Hero LCPL Juan Dominguez. They are all Marines, and they are all my HEROES.

This years walk is on Sat. May 21st at Rosetree Park in Media PA. All donations go to Operation First Response – www.operationfirstresponse.org – a 501c3 organization that serve’s our country’s wounded Heroes with honor.

Here's what you can do to help me reach my goal:

Go to our “Walk For The Wounded” website at http://walkforthewounded.org/ - you can join my team named "HONOR COURAGE COMMITMENT" and walk with me, or you can sponsor my team by clicking "SPONSOR" search my name "Luke Sliwinski" and make a donation under my teams name.

Please help me reach or EXCEED my goal and give back to our heroes who have given so much for all of us!

SEMPER FI!

LCPL Luke Sliwinski

Below are several pictures of Luke and his hero's.


Young Marine LCPL Luke Sliwinski with his Hero Cpl. Todd Love

Luke with his Hero 1st Lt Travis Manion. Travis will forever be Luke's Hero. Travis will always be an example to Luke - because of the way he so honorably lived his life.

Frank Buckles To Be Honored At Arlington

MiMr. Buckles will arrive to Arlington National Cemetery Memorial Amphitheater, and will be transferred to the U.S. Army’s 3rd Infantry Regiment “The Old Guard.” to lie in honor at the Memorial Chapel. A constant vigil will be maintained by a single soldier during the time Mr. Buckles remains are in the chapel. There will be a Presidential wreath placed by Mr. Buckles’ casket.

8:00 a.m. to 2:00 p.m. Mr. Buckles will lie in honor for the public to pay their last respects. The chapel is not wheelchair accessible. During this time we will have a video feed that will be displayed in the Visitor's Center for the public that cannot access the chapel.

1:30 p.m. The line closes for public viewing. 2:00 p.m. to 4:00 p.m. The chapel will close to the public.

At approximately 4:00 p.m., the Old Guard soldiers will transfer Mr. Buckles from the chapel to a Caisson in front of the Amphitheater. Once this ceremony is complete the family will follow the Caisson to Section 34. Public attendees will be prepositioned in Section 34 where they can view the arrival of the Caisson and the interment service.

The graveside ceremony will be held in Section 34, within sight of General Pershing’s gravesite. The interment ceremony is open to the public. There will be wheel chair ramps for handicapped access to the gravesite for the interment service.

Mr. Buckles will be buried with full military honors, to include a caisson, escort platoon, a casket team, firing party and a bugler. The Soldiers conducting military honors are from the U.S. Army’s 3rd Infantry Regiment “The Old Guard.”





Below is a link to the obituary from Joseph Gawler's Sons, Inc.,5130 Wisconsin Ave NW, Washington, DC 20016 | 202-966-6400. There is an online Guest Book where message and condolences can be sent to the family.

Joseph Gawler's Sons -Frank Buckles

American Flag

While making my rounds on the internet today, I came across the below article regarding yesterdays decision by the Supreme Court, as it regards the Westboro Church protesting at the funerals of deceased soldiers.

The Death of Common Decency

By Frank Ryan

The Supreme Court ruled that the Westboro Baptist Church's behavior in demonstrating at the funeral of Marine Lance Corporal Matthew Snyder was protected speech under the First Amendment of the Constitution.

The Court of Public Opinion must hold the demonstrators to a different standard.

Lance Corporal Snyder swore to defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies foreign and domestic. He died defending the very rights of the people who violated his and his family's right to mourn.

I too took that same oath.

As a retired Marine Colonel, please allow me to defend my Marine Lance Corporal Snyder in the court of public opinion where I pray he receives a fair hearing.

To deny the family of a slain serviceman or woman a peaceful burial is immoral, despicable, and dishonorable. It is the highest form of hatred imaginable. Whether it is what I saw in Haiti, Bosnia, Afghanistan or Iraq, the physical violence is horrible but psychological violence leaves scars that only prayer will heal.

I have personally made a casualty call which means that I was tasked with telling a Marine's family that a terrible tragedy had befallen his family.

Bear with me as I describe for you that moment in the lives of six people that fateful day. May you see through your eyes what I saw through mine.

On that cold November day in the mid 1980's, I was a young Marine major. At the end of a Marine Corps birthday celebration with the unit I commanded, our First Sergeant and I were notified that a Marine in our area had died in Okinawa. We were given the opportunity and honor of being with one of our brother's family as the horrific news was delivered.

As we drove the three or so hours to the home of our fallen comrade, the First Sergeant and I talked about how to deliver the news. We were wearing our Dress Blue Marine uniform which was standard when we honor our fallen.

Nothing could have prepared the family for that moment. Nothing could have prepared us.

As we walked to the door of the home in rural, upstate Pennsylvania, a very young child came around the corner scampering with joy to go the door whose door bell had just rung. Recognizing the uniform, he screamed out in joy "Mommy, daddy's home". His mother came running to the door excitedly I seem to remember with her two other children by her side. She suddenly stopped dead in her tracks when she saw two Marines and not her loved one. She screamed and the children become totally bewildered and confused by the sudden twist in their young lives.

We took the children and mom to the living room in their home and while fighting back tears, the First Sergeant and I delivered the news to three beautiful children and a horror stricken wife that their loved one would not be coming back home again.

I remembered so vividly the reaction of our brother's three children.

My mind went back to the day when I watched as a three year old my own dad's death. As I sat is his lap as he gasped for breath, I knew my life had changed but I did not know how or why. I saw that same fear in their eyes.

Despite the tragedy that befell our Marine family that November day the family had some semblance of closure in the peace and support from their friends and our fellow Marines.

To deny the Snyder's, my new Marine family, that right to mourn peacefully is a disgrace and dishonor to all Americans.

The Supreme Court may rule that the Westboro Church action was protected speech. I can almost certainly assure you that our Founding Fathers would have felt that they did not need to address this travesty in a document as sacred as our Constitution.

Our Founding Fathers would have told you that common decency did not and could not be addressed in a document. They would have told us that character and honor are in your heart and your soul. They knew that you cannot legislate morality or common decency.

Lance Corporal Snyder died defending the very rights of those who dishonored him and his family.

His reward is in heaven and the knowledge that he will NEVER meet those who picketed his funeral service for the remainder of eternity.

For Mr. Snyder, I can merely say to you, God bless, God speed and Semper fi,

Col. Frank Ryan, USMCR (ret) CPA specializes in corporate restructuring and lectures on ethics and management for CPA's. He is on the boards of numerous publicly traded companies as well as not for profit charitable organizations. He can be reached at FRYAN1951@aol.com.

Do I Make You Proud....

This is a very inspirational video with the underlying message - be yourself! God made us all special.

Do you make yourself proud, do we make God proud. We can only be ourselves. We all deserve to be loved...for who we are not what someone else wants us to be....

May You Be Blessed Movie

May You Be Blessed Movie: ""Sometimes our light goes out but is blown again into flame by an encounter with another human being. Each of us owes the deepest thanks to those who have rekindled this inner light." This is a quote from Albert Schweitzer, but it captures the essence of what "May You Be Blessed" is all about."

And Then There Were None..Last WWI Veteran Dies..RIP Frank.

Friends- The last WWI veteran has gone on to join General Pershing to fight for eternity. Mr. Buckles has passed on. ~ David DeJonge~

I first learned about Frank Buckles by reading The Last Leaf by Stuart Lutz. I started following his story on the facebook page, Pershing Last Patriot. Frank Buckles Story. It is an amazing story that deserves to be told and heard.

Per his Website......

Frank was born on February 1, 1901. At the age of 16, he witnessed the European theater of World War I, serving in the United States Army as an ambulance driver. In World War II, he became a Prisoner of War in the Philippines and was imprisoned for 39 months. After his return, Frank settled down in West Virginia to his humble farm, where he lived until his death on February 27, 2011, at the age of 110.

His life is a true story of American commitment and heroism, inspiring many to ask how they can help. Frank's family is deeply appreciative of these offers and attention, but continues to stress it is not so much about Frank, but all he represents.

I was sadden today by the news of Frank's passing. Not because he has not lived a long and wonderful life, but because our length to that part of history is now gone. His story deserves to be told. My hope is that his story will be told, David DeJonge has worked so very hard to make that happen. We as a nation owe Frank that and so much more.

My hope and prayer is that our lawmakers will step up and ensure that a WWI Memorial is built to honor the dough boys of World War I. That was Franks last wish was to see his comrades honored , we as a nation owe them that and need to ensure it happens.

"These are difficult times, and we are not asking for anything elaborate," he said in a statement in November 2010. "What is fitting and right is a memorial that can take its place among those commemorating the other great conflicts of the past century." He will be buried at Arlington National Cemetary at a date to be determined, with special Honors from the French and United Kingdom. President George W Bush signed a bill sponsored by U.S. Rep. Shelley Moore Capito, WV, for the burial at Arlington in 2008.

CPL Buckles is survived by a grateful Nation, and many relatives and friends. Frank your work on earth is done. Into the West..Rest in peace...The ships have come to carry you home....

Thought for Today...Kindness

You cannot do a kindness too soon, for you never know how soon it will be too late. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

You might be surprised ...at how much better you will feel not to mention how it affects those around you.

Story of Faith and Forgiveness

“To forgive is the highest, most beautiful form of love. In return, you will receive untold peace and happiness.” Robert Muller

Watch the below video to see an amazing story of faith, forgiveness and love. To forgive you must look deep within yourself and trust a power greater than you or I.

Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. Colossians 3:13

Thought for Today...

You cannot do wrong without suffering wrong. -Ralph Waldo Emerson

Two wrongs do not make a right. So many times in life we take a wrong road and then wonder why things go wrong in our lives. I for one believe that at some point you reap what you sow..that at some point your wrong will come back to haunt you in the end. Life is full of choices and we have to make them each and every day. Wrong choices render us to let our emotions take hold and we do not look to our soul to find the right choices.

Can you make the right choices, the ones that in the end will bring you real joy and peace? Or do you continue to make the wrong choices allowing yourself to fall victum to yourself and choices that you make each adn evey day...I think that may have said it best.....

Rather fail with honour than succeed by fraud. -Sophocles

Can you say that you live with honor, integrity and decency. Are you at peace with yourself as you look in the mirror each and every day.

Clay Dyer..This Amazing Man Will Forever Change Your Outlook On Life

This is Clay Dyer. He is a professional bass fisherman. Clay was born without limbs and has overcome so much not only in fishing but in life.

Clay started fishing at age 5 and began tournament fishing at age 15. Clay has not allowed his physical disabilities to be an obstacle ...his motto is simple "If I Can , You Can....

Watch the below video that tell the story of Clay Dyer...if this does not make you stop and think and ponder.... then you need to do some soul searching.

THINGS YOUR BURGLAR WON'T TELL YOU

This was sent in an email and it seems like there is very good advice in here..reading takes a while but it is worth it...

1. Of course I look familiar. I was here just last week cleaning your carpets, painting your shutters, or delivering your new refrigerator.

2. Hey, thanks for letting me use the bathroom when I was working in your yard last week. While I was in there, I unlatched the back window to make my return a little easier.

3. Love those flowers. That tells me you have taste... and taste means there are nice things inside. Those yard toys your kids leave out always make me wonder what type of gaming system they have.

4. Yes, I really do look for newspapers piled up on the driveway. And I might leave a pizza flyer in your front door to see how long it takes you to remove it..

5. If it snows while you're out of town, get a neighbor to create car and foot tracks into the house.. Virgin drifts in the driveway are a dead giveaway

.

6. If decorative glass is part of your front entrance, don't let your alarm company install the control pad where I can see if it's set. That makes it too easy.

7. A good security company alarms the window over the sink. And the windows on the second floor, which often access the master bedroom - and your jewelry. It's not a bad idea to put motion detectors up there too.

8. It's raining, you're fumbling with your umbrella, and you forget to lock your door - understandable. But understand this: I don't take a day off because of bad weather.

9. I always knock first. If you answer, I'll ask for directions somewhere or offer to clean your gutters. (Don't take me up on it.)

10. Do you really think I won't look in your sock drawer? I always check dresser drawers, the bedside table, and the medicine cabinet.

11. Here's a helpful hint: I almost never go into kids' rooms.

12. You're right: I won't have enough time to break into that safe where you keep your valuables. But if it's not bolted down, I'll take it with me.

13. A loud TV or radio can be a better deterrent than the best alarm system. If you're reluctant to leave your TV on while you're out of town, you can buy a $35 device that works on a timer and simulates the flickering glow of a real television..

8 MORE THINGS A BURGLAR WON'T TELL YOU:

1. Sometimes, I carry a clipboard.Sometimes, I dress like a lawn guy and carry a rake. I do my best to never, ever look like a crook.

2. The two things I hate most: loud dogs and nosy neighbors.

3. I'll break a window to get in, even if it makes a little noise. If your neighbor hears one loud sound, he'll stop what he's doing and wait to hear it again. If he doesn't hear it again, he'll just go back to what he was doing. It's human nature.

4. I'm not complaining, but why would you pay all that money for a fancy alarm system and leave your house without setting it?

5. I love looking in your windows. I'm looking for signs that you're home, and for flat screen TVs or gaming systems I'd like. I'll drive or walk through your neighborhood at night, before you close the blinds, just to pick my targets.

6. Avoid announcing your vacation on your Facebook page. It's easier than you think to look up your address.

7. To you, leaving that window open just a crack during the day is a way to let in a little fresh air. To me, it's an invitation.

8. If you don't answer when I knock, I try the door. Occasionally, I hit the jackpot and walk right in.

Thought for Today...

"You can fool all the people some of the time, and some of the people all the time, but you cannot fool all the people all the time."

Failure to be honest with ourselves, leads to being dishonest with others. Without being honest with ourselves, how can we expect to be honest with others? Some people continue to tell the same lie over and over ..to some it becomes their reality. Bottom line deep in their heart they know the truth.. What good is telling a lie doing for anyone? Misery will be the end result because the lie grows just like the "nose" in the picture above.

At some point you have to look yourself in the mirror and realize the dishonesty will only hurt you and those around you. It is a choice.

Thought for Today

While watching Shawshank Redemption last night......Fear can hold you prisoner. Hope can set you free. I would argue..while hope is important in all our lives the truth is what will truly set you free...

Every truth passes through three stages before it is recognized. In the first, it is ridiculed, in the second it is opposed, in the third it is regarded as self-evident. ~Arthur Schopenhauer

The Buglar

A wonderful story that was written on a Patriotism site I visit often....

The Bugler....

April 7th, 2008, I hid my eyes deliberately from the crowd in the dining room as I walked outside into the night that was chaste with the glow of natures cannon fire . . . or perhaps I fantasized, they were mortars falling in the distant darkness, leaving behind a thundering roll of them falling to earth. On any other night in any other town, it would have merely been lightning , a precursor to a coming storm.

But On April 7th, as I sat in the dining area of the motels restaurant, I heard the faint crying of a lone bugle from somewhere in the darkness beyond the reach of the motels lights . . . a song of mourning . . . of despair . . . the sound of a heart crying through the note of a single trumpet . . . somewhere beyond the veil of night, and it called to me. There was such a needing to be near it, to listen to its reverence . . . and tears formed and fell across my cheeks . . . and I hid my eyes from the folks in the dining room as I made my way out of the restaurant, past the pool gate and headed into the expanse of grass east of the motel to the small forest lining the property . . . shielding the motel from highway 69.

I followed the cry of that trumpet . . . barely able to see the bushes . . . and finally I stepped into a small opening where a gazebo stood resolutely in the flash of the thunderstorm forming to the south.

I stood there letting my eyes adjust to the darkness after a particularly brilliant and blinding strike . . . .the thunder began rolling . . . like a chorus of many drums that herald a coming finale . . . and then the song of the bugle began again . . . Taps . . . and it is impossible to tell of the longing and the loneliness of that sound . . . a cry of honor for the fallen . . . a single horn playing a symphony of ‘I remember you" and gratitude and respect and good-bye . . . and it tore at my heart.

I could see the silhouette of a man . . . standing in the gazebo . . . bugle to his lips . . . holding the last note of the ‘good-bye’ for what seemed like minutes . . . without breathing. I wished I could have recorded that moment for all to see and hear . . . the lone figure silhouetted in the gazebo against a backdrop of lightning and thunder playing in the background.

Finally he stopped and sat down on the bench that lined the inner circle of the small gazebo and I hesitated . . . not wanting to disturb him . . . but finally said, "That was probably the most beautiful rendition of taps I’ve ever heard"

And he looked in my direction briefly . . . then turned away . . . and I could see as he pulled a hanky from his pocket and wiped his eyes, that he had heard me. Finally he spoke in a voice that had tasted the good and the bad of his eternity . . . "Thank you . . . that’s kind of you to say. I hope I wasn’t disturbing you"

And I was nearly offended by his gentle unspoken apology to me. "May I join you?", I asked him.

And he motioned to the bench across from him. "My names Leo . . . short for Leonard . . . but friends call me Buzz . . . an’ I reckon yer ok . . . you can call me Buzz if ya like".

"I gotta tell you Buzz . . . you brought tears to my eyes, like your heart was in that Bugle".

"Has been", he said, "For nearin’ 70 plus now, and tomorrow is the last good-bye to a fellow soldier. I been playin’ Taps for my buddies funerals now since ’64, been blowin’ the horn since boot in ’41. I got no other way to let’ em go." He stopped, visibly fighting back hurt and memories of so many years. "I’m 92 last week, and tomorrow I’m playin’ for ‘Golpher’. His plaques gonna read Staff Sergeant Patterson , Geoffrey S, but I’m playin’ for Golpher", his voice cracking a bit. "We was in the same outfit in the war ya’ know . . . him n’ me and 27 others . . . an’ we made a pact that the last ones standin’ would blow the horn for each other as we got laid down. Last year, Golpher n’ me played at 3 funerals . . . .tomorrow . . . I’m playin’ for Golpher . . . .an’ then its just me left."

"I’m am so very sorry to" . . . But he held up his hand to stop me . . . and I stopped.

There was a long pause . . . punctuated with the chorus of rumbling drums in the background . . . flashes of mortar in the distance . . . streaking across the night.

"I have had the honor and the humblin’ privilege", he said after a few moments, "of being able to say good-bye to so many. Esther, my wife of 69 years, has been there with me at every one of ‘em . . . and she is waiting in the room for me to try on my dress blues again. Don’t cry for me sonny, and don’t give me your pity . . . I am the luckiest man on earth to have played at nearly every National Cemetery . . . an’ bein’ the last one standin’ to say good-bye."

We talked for a bit . . . well I mostly listened . . . as he took some time to cross the familiar bridges of his memory . . . about how he’d played at San Bruno, Little Rock, San Diego, one called Zachary Taylor in Kentucky where "the trees cried at that one", he said, and on and on, naming off places he has said good-bye. "An’ ya know somethin’? It’s awful dang fillin’ to stand up an’ be the last one to say good job soldier. I’ll see ya later. An’ it never meant nothin’ to me that most times, my wife an’ me was the last ones there, when everyone else was gone on. I kept my word, an’ I’m proud o’ that". He wet his lips, put the horn up to blow and paused to say . . . " If ya don’t mind, I gotta practice one more time . . . since this is the last good-bye I’m gonna play . . . it’s gotta be perfect."

I said simply , "Thank you sir, and God Bless you. You are someone I will treasure having met".

He looked at me, smiled and said in a grunt, "My friends don’t call me sir. They call me Buzz." And he began again . . . allowing the Bugle to cry the song of his heart.

Nor do I think he heard me say . . . "God Bless you Buzz." But I have a feeling that God will do that . . . even with out my permission. And as I walked away through the veil of trees to my room, I heard a bugle cry, and the mortars fell, and their flash that streaked through the night seemed to say "Amen"

Written by Robert VanDerslice

A simple 'thanks' changes Vietnam Veteran's life

This story was told in 2008 on the Today Show. A story about how this veteran's life was forever changed by a simple "thank you".

“I can't tell the story without breaking up,” Vietnam veteran Bud Willis, 67, said of one painful yet inspiring encounter in the Vietnam War. “That moment changed my life.”

In 1966, late in his 14-month tour, Willis was assigned to provide air support for Marines by flying the wounded out of combat areas. An emotionally challenging job, he quickly learned to look straight ahead when picking up injured soldiers.

“I was just a young pilot with no medical experience. I certainly wasn't a hero, because everyone in my squadron was doing those kinds of jobs — because it was a moral obligation." On one particular mission, Willis was ordered to pick up a Marine and take him to a specialized facility that treated life-threatening injuries. The young soldier, no more than 19 years old, was in critical condition. He was missing a leg, an arm, an ear and an eye. To ease the soldier’s pain, the corpsman shot morphine into his remaining leg.

After dropping his passengers off at the local hospital, Willis saw the wounded Marine motion to the crew chief to lean forward so that he could tell him something over the deafening noise of the helicopters. The chief nodded, walked back over to Willis and took a minute to collect himself before relaying the message:

“Captain Willis, do you know what he said to me? He said to 'tell the pilot, thanks for the ride.'"
On the way to their base, Willis said his men, touched by the gratitude, were “all bawling like babies” and praying for the full recovery of the wounded soldier.

“Any man who could see through his own incredible circumstances and still have the presence of mind to say ‘thank you’ still brings tears to my eyes,” Willis said. "It made me want to be like him."

Willis still doesn't know what happened to the wounded Marine. "One of the hardest parts about these medevacs — and one of the things that hit us back home — was that we knew his family was going to have to hear about this, and we knew it long before they did," Willis said. "It was traumatic."

Although Willis admits he doesn’t “re-visit Vietnam a lot,” he hasn't forgotten that experience. From that day on, Willis committed himself to thanking at least one person each day.

“I have told this many times to teary-eyed audiences,” Bud said of his life-changing story. “We should remember to show gratitude and to thank people every day, and to thank God for people like that young Marine.”

Watch the below video which was on air in 2008, as Bud tell his story of what a simple "thank you" did to change his life forever.....

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Thought for Today...

“Nobody ever did, or ever will, escape the consequences of his choices.” Alfred A. Montapert

Which choice will you make? The choice is yours..just remember there are consequences for your actions.

Love Delayed for 57 Years....

"He stands close to my mother, without touching, staring worshipfully at her, rather than looking at the person taking the picture," Nancy Rossman read from the book she wrote for her mother, 'First Love, Last Dance.' The man staring worshipfully at her mother is not her father.

"11Alive News first introduced you to Peter and Elise Eaves last year, almost 92-year-old lovebirds who married each other in their 70's. The two first fell in love more than 70 years ago, but because Elise's mother disapproved, they wound up with other people. When their spouses died, they found each other again and the story of their reconnection became Rossman's book. Our story aired, then it was on CNN, and the little book that was a gift, caught fire."

"Elise and Peter first met in 1938 in Atlanta. Elise was a UGA student born and raised in Ansley Park. She met Peter at a noon hour dance one day.

"I was leaning over the piano watching somebody play when he walked up. I thought he was cute," says Elise, laughing. "He was very persistent, he asked me out, just put the pressure on."

The story after that unfolded much the way you would expect. They fell in love and got engaged. Then Peter was drafted in 1941. While he was gone, Elise's mother pressured her.

"My mother did not like him. She kept telling me he would not make me happy, he would not be a good husband. Back then you thought your mother knew best."

Elise broke the engagement.

Sitting together on the couch in their home they talked about what it was like to have a second chance 57 years later. "

Watch the video which tell their story of a love that never ended....and they happiness they found after all these years.

Thought for the Day..

Time is too slow for those who wait, too swift for those who fear, too long for those who grieve, too short for those who rejoice, but for those who love, time is eternity. ~Henry Van Dyke

Hope everyone has a Happy Valentine's Day... .. May you find love every day..

..And may you all find true love once in your life.

Team Hoyt..A love story for the ages....

Dick Hoyt’s son Rick can’t walk or talk. Rick convinced his dad to push him in his wheelchair in a 5 mile race, he told his dad that he didn’t feel handicapped when they were competing. Below is the story that appeared in Sports Illustrated, June 2005 witten by Rick Reilly.

"Strongest Dad in the World"

I try to be a good father. Give my kids mulligans. Work nights to pay for their text messaging. Take them to swimsuit shoots.But compared with Dick Hoyt, I suck.

Eighty-five times he’s pushed his disabled son, Rick, 26.2 miles in marathons. Eight times he’s not only pushed him 26.2 miles in a wheelchair but also towed him 2.4 miles in a dinghy while swimming and pedaled him 112 miles in a seat on the handlebars–all in the same day.

Dick’s also pulled him cross-country skiing, taken him on his back mountain climbing and once hauled him across the U.S. on a bike. Makes taking your son bowling look a little lame, right?

And what has Rick done for his father? Not much–except save his life.
This love story began in Winchester, Mass., 43 years ago, when Rick was strangled by the umbilical cord during birth, leaving him brain-damaged and unable to control his limbs.

“He’ll be a vegetable the rest of his life,” Dick says doctors told him and his wife, Judy, when Rick was nine months old. “Put him in an institution.”

But the Hoyts weren’t buying it. They noticed the way Rick’s eyes followed them around the room. When Rick was 11 they took him to the engineering department at Tufts University and asked if there was anything to help the boy communicate.

“No way,” Dick says he was told. “There’s nothing going on in his brain.”

“Tell him a joke,” Dick countered. They did. Rick laughed. Turns out a lot was going on in his brain.”

Dick and Rick's story is one of not only courage, determination but most of all a story of love. The unconditional love a father has for his son. A love a son has for his father and the bond they have for each other because of this love.

I saw this story over three years ago, yet every time I watch it again I am inspired. Not only to be a better parent but to be a better person. To look in the mirror everyday and count my blessings. To realize that you can love someone so much that you would do anything for them....

Dick Hoyt demonstrates all that is good in humanity...all that is good in a father and friend. When you talk about a "love story" I think this one should be at the top of the list. Dick competes not for himself but for the love of his son and a chance to give him an opportunity to feel free from his disability. He is one of the most caring and compassionate men I have ever read of.

Pull up a chair, watch this amazing video of "Tea, Hoyt" and one of the greatest love stories ever told. When you wonder what true love is.....look no further than this remarkable story.

May you too be inspired.