Tag: military

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How to thank a vet on Veterans’ Day

Veterans Day
Veterans Day

Today is Veterans’ Day.

Sometimes the meaning of these days of recognition get confused. Veterans’ Day – today – we salute all who have served: both during war and peace time – those who are still living. Memorial Day is reserved for those died. (Source: https://www.va.gov/opa/vetsday/vetday_faq.asp)

Today is a great day to say “thank you” to anyone who has served. Memorial Day is a day of respect and reflection for our war dead. A day of somber remembrance.

So why do we recognize someone who “volunteers” to go into the military? Ah – good question. Because these folks “volunteer,” we don’t have a draft. If for no other reason than that, thank you!

Continue reading “How to thank a vet on Veterans’ Day”

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Have a Happy Fourth of July!

Happy Fourth of July!

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It’s the Fourth of July already? Oh my, that means summer is in full swing, and that we are half-way through the year! Yikes!

Continue reading “Have a Happy Fourth of July!”

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A Warrior’s Faith Book Review and Giveaway

Disclosure: I was given an advance reader’s copy of this book to review by Family Christian.  All opinions are my own.wpid-2015-03-25-16.34.39.jpg.jpeg

Who kept the faith and fought the fight; The glory theirs, the duty ours. – Wallace Bruce

It was with great interest I read “A Warrior’s Faith,” written by Robert Vera, who tells the story of Navy SEAL, Ryan Job.

Ryan was not your typical Navy SEAL. He was physically bigger than most, and put through the ringer from his trainers and teammates. Each rigorous test he encountered and passed was a credit to the true spirit he had deep inside – the desire to succeed and the desire to serve his country. In June of 2005, he completed his Naval Special Warfare Training, and was assigned to SEAL Team 3.

Continue reading “A Warrior’s Faith Book Review and Giveaway”

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September 11, 2001 – I Will Never Forget

dad's flagBut when I saw her again, we were different women than when we earlier stood talking in front of the preschool.

September 11, 2001

It was one of the most beautiful September mornings I can remember. The sky was crystal clear – not a cloud in the sky – just endless, gorgeous blue for as far as the eyes could see. The sun was warm and there was a hint of a breeze. The air smelled so fresh and sweet. Perfection – one of the few days of the year one could actually say the weather was just perfect.

I remember the day so well. It was the beginning of the school year, and our last baby – at age three – had just started preschool. A monumental time in her life as well as mine. Continue reading “September 11, 2001 – I Will Never Forget”

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Proud Military Mom

I wrote this article a few years ago, and it was originally published in the Detroit Free Press Twist Magazine on November 10, 2007. Earlier this week, one of our youngest son’s friends left for the U.S. Air Force-BMT. Late last year, the daughter of another family we know enlisted in the U.S. Army Reserves. To these young people – thank you! And to the military moms and dads, we are here for you!

Proud military mom – BY LYNNE COBB

Last Veterans Day, Lynne Cobb wrote about having her husband away at war in Iraq. This year, Lynne tells us about the mixed emotions of her son joining the military. This is her story.

Labor Day weekend, as many parents were packing up their kids and sending them to college, I watched my oldest son, David, scrutinize his very short list and place his few authorized belongings into a nondescript duffle bag. No microwaves or futons going with him. He was off to U.S. Air Force Basic Military Training (BMT).

BMT is a whole new world. Your child leaves with one bag — no computer, no cell phone — no texting, instant messaging or calling. You do not get to talk to your child until he or she has the opportunity to call you. The first call will be about two minutes — enough for you to get an address. Mail service is slow. I found the lack of communication to be unnerving. Not quite a year since his dad’s return from Iraq, my son was off and running on a new adventure. Excitement and apprehension ran high for the family. I wrestled my emotions — pride, fear and the realization that our family would never be the same.

As the weeks of training continued, I found myself wondering what was more difficult — being a military wife or being a military mom and sending my son to training and possibly war. The first few days of my son’s departure, I was in tears. When I went two days without crying, I felt I had made progress. There were days I would hear his favorite song and smile; other days that song would reduce me to tears. I’d see his truck parked outside and think, “He’s home,” only to realize a split-second later that, no, he really wasn’t.


I never realized just how much I’d miss him, that the ache would be so intense. It was like an emotional replay of my husband’s deployment. And, as with that deployment, my emotions ran the gambit between pride, lonely emptiness and worry. The emotional parallel is nearly identical, though I felt the need to go and rescue my son.

My husband has been supportive of my mixed bag of feelings. There is great comfort in having such a close source to answer my questions. We joke as to whom I should root for during the Army-Air Force football game.

My husband and I were blessed to be at our son’s graduation from BMT. It was an experience we’ll never forget and an event I wish every American could witness. To see almost 1,000 recruits graduate and take the oath to defend our nation is a moment I’ll never forget. While hearing the national anthem, seeing the U.S. flag as well as the flags of the 50 states and U.S. territories waving in the warm Texas breeze was a sight to behold. Not only was I a proud mother, but a proud American.

I am so very proud of the decision my son made to serve our nation. I am humbled by, and I thank, those who have made the same decision, and for those who will do the same. I thank the parents who supported their child’s decision.

No matter what the future holds, with faith and prayer, we will survive the miles between us, wherever he may be called to serve.

Are you a military mom? Have you experienced sending your child off to boot camp? How did you handle it? Let me know in the comments section. And again, thank you for service as a military family!

© Lynne Cobb – 2014

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I am one ticked off military spouse

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“Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” John 15:13

The topper on the latest, most-blatant disrespect of our military members has enraged me beyond belief.

How could something as shameful as denying immediate survivor benefits to the families of deceased military families have happened? And yet it did, to the families of the service members who died in the line of duty since the government shutdown.

Blame it on the government shutdown? Really? How on earth did this happen to these families?

How much more political game-playing has to happen before this nonsense ends? Why must the military continue to be used as pawns in a stalemated, government chess game?

First of all, the description of our “all-volunteer military” is grossly inaccurate. Volunteer does not mean “free.” What it means is that someone’s husband, wife, son, daughter, brother, sister, grandchild, niece or nephew has answered the call of defending our country, and is willing to lay their life on the line so that someone else doesn’t have to. It means that our country doesn’t have a draft to pull people into the military. It means that someone felt the call to defend our country and uphold the constitution of the United States of America. It means while they are training, defending, performing first aid and going without sleep, someone else can attend college or trade school or live a normal life.

It means that they are defending their fellow citizens’ right to free speech, as ugly as that speech can be at times. It means that people can go to the mall on weekends, or attend a sporting event or sit with a six-pack and watch a game on the weekend. It means that others can be in attendance of their child’s birth, wedding, or graduation. It means that people can gather for holidays and family events – all while our service members miss these opportunities and miss milestones in their families’ lives, making sure that other’s lives are not interrupted. It means that the personal dedication of each one that takes the oath makes our military more professional, because they choose to be there – it is not forced.

Our service member’s families are displaced with frequent moves and deployment rotations that occur more often than some people rotate their tires. The families also serve, by supporting their service member.

As a madder-than-heck military spouse, I have had it with political games played at the expense of our military. There should not be a fear that payday won’t arrive, that benefits and retirement are in jeopardy, that commissaries and libraries close to make a political point. And above all, a grieving family should never, ever, be shut out from survivor benefits to make a point. Words can’t even describe the sick feeling that overwhelmed me when this news broke. What does that say about our nation? Is this how we say thanks?

It disgusts me how our service members and veterans are treated by our government and our country. Injured military members have to wait on a broken system to receive treatment. The jobless rate for veterans is deplorable. Why? Are employers fearful of post-traumatic stress disorder? Fearful of hiring someone who could be deployed again?

And the stereotypes of military families and their spouses are grossly unjust and mean-spirited. Military spouses are considered lazy whiners. Entitlement and discount seekers. Really? Do you know how hard it is to sustain a career when moving every few years? Or work, run a household and raise children under the stress of a deployment? There is never a moment of peace for a military spouse, they know the danger their loved ones face. Should we be left to wonder if our spouse’s pay will be on time, and, here’s the kicker – whether it is correct? Should our service members have that “no pay” worry on their heads while they dodge IEDs and bullets? Do you think that maybe spouses are not whining, but raising legitimate concerns and complaints, hoping our leaders will hear them?

If this nonsense continues, who is going to step up and join the military? And for those who are currently up for reenlistment – will we lose them and their much needed skills? Is this how we thank those that put the uniform on every day – and I mean every day?

It is time for our President, Senate and Congress to act like leaders and stop using the military every time there is a budget crisis. Negotiate – it is your job. It doesn’t matter what side of the political fence you are on. Someone needs to step up with an olive branch, negotiate and start resolving these issues.

It is time for citizens of this nation to realize what our military does – and why. They aren’t out there because they like war. In fact, if you asked them, they would prefer to keep the peace here at home. But they are out there anyway, risking their lives and missing out on time with their families so that others don’t. They serve for the greater good.

They know the risks of their jobs, and are willing to continue on, despite what our leaders do – or don’t do. Our military deserves better than what they have been getting lately. And so do their families, especially those who mourn the loss of their hero, who gave the ultimate sacrifice.

© Lynne Cobb – 2013

 

 

 

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Supporting those who support those who serve

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“No one really wants to admit they are lonely, and it is never really addressed very much between friends and family. But I have felt lonely many times in my life.” – Bill Murray

Sitting in church on Sunday, our pastor’s sermon theme reflected on friendship. Though he interjected some humor with thought-provoking questions, his message really hit home. I am sure many of us squirmed, knowing full well that we all can, should and could be better friends.

He touched on something that really resonated with me, and that was loneliness, and what it really felt like. If you have ever experienced loneliness, and I am talking gut-wrenching, deep-in-the-pit loneliness, you could relate. When you are hurting, you don’t want to be forgotten.

Most of us think of loneliness when we hear of someone passing away. Loneliness is part of the grief experience.  But it isn’t always death that makes one feel alone. Any traumatic experience – like a cancer diagnosis, a divorce, a job loss, addiction, losing a home – can lead to feelings of loss and grief.

Because I am a military spouse and mom, I know how very lonely it can be when your loved one is not home. Basic training, TDYs, far-off duty stations and deployments  can cause grief: separation anxiety, lack of communication, missing your loved one. You grieve for the life you had before they left. You grieve for normalcy. At times, people avoid service members’ families for fear of making them – or seeing them – cry. Similar to how people react to a death.

And honestly, that is isn’t too far off the mark as to how we respond, in general, when others journey through difficult times. We don’t know what to say or do, often afraid we will make things worse.

Back in the late 1960s, Elizabeth Kubler Ross introduced a hypothesis for the five stages of grief. Some pooh-poohed her idea, and others embraced it. When my dad died, I can say I went through the stages, though not in any particular order. I stumbled upon some notes regarding those stages recently, and it was like I had an “ah-ha” moment. The stages of grief are similar to the feelings many military families go through when those deployment warning orders start filtering down the chain of command:

  • Denial (Oh, this won’t happen. He is needed at his base more than over there.)
  • Anger (Mad at the command, mad at the violent world we live in, mad at the dog, mad the account won’t balance. Mad! Mad! Mad!)
  • Bargaining (God, if you keep my service member home, I will ___________ [fill in the blank].)
  • Depression (Some days, you just want to pull the covers over your head and sleep until your loved one returns.)
  • Acceptance (This really is happening, and with God’s help, I will survive it.)

I’ve been asked before how one can really help military families – you know, “to support those who support those who serve.” As a well-season military spouse and mom, I have some suggestions listed below for those who have a friend, neighbor, co-worker, church member or relative facing or living through a deployment. But really, these can be used for anyone in need:

  • Be there. When my husband left for a deployment, my sister-in-law showed up at our house within minutes of his departure. Kids, coffee, and tears. I don’t even know if I talked. But she held my hand while I cried.
  • Bring a meal. My mother is the best. She either a brought a complete meal or invited us over. What a relief to not have to worry about feeding the kids. What a relief to not have to eat alone if the kids are not home.
  • Texts are great, but there is nothing better than hearing a voice at the other end of the line.
  • Invite the spouse, parent or family for coffee, ice cream, or just for a visit. Evenings, weekends and holidays are the worst times for feeling lonely, as that’s when most families gather and interact.
  • Drop off or mail a care package to the family. Maybe a box with some movies, popcorn and candy; a cookie bouquet half-way through the deployment; a flower arrangement on an anniversary or birthday; a balloon bouquet on a child’s birthday; fresh-baked cookies…let your imagination run wild!
  • Offer to help – from childcare to errand running to household/yard chores. A military spouse is pulling double duty.
  • Don’t say,”If you need me call.” Just call – they do need you.
  • Don’t be afraid. You will see tears. I guarantee it. Consider it an honor that your friend can comfortably cry in front of you.

Certainly, we have all the technology we can handle to stay in touch, but as connected as we are, there is a huge disconnect in interpersonal relationships and human touch. We rely so heavily on texts, posts and tweets, that we feel we have done our duty to connect. And while electronics are good to get the dialogue going, I think we’re really missing out if we don’t get out of our comfort zone and help wipe some tears, hand someone a box of tissues, give them a big a hug or sit and hold their hand. Something as simple as sharing a big slice of chocolate cake, or a bowl of body-and-soul-warming soup can do wonders for someone who’s lonely and scared. They will know they aren’t alone.

From someone who supports someone who serves, I can tell you, it will be appreciated. Greatly appreciated.

“Sometimes, reaching out and taking someone’s hand is the beginning of a journey. At other times, it is allowing another to take yours.” – Vera Nazarian

Would you be interested in seeing more blog posts on how to support military families? Feel free to let me know in the comments section.

© Lynne Cobb – 2013

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Some quiet time with Super Heroes

 Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.  John 15:13 NIV

A few years ago, my husband and I answered a call for volunteers for our local historical society. I am not embarrassed to admit that I was a bit apprehensive.

Our volunteer mission: to place flags on veteran’s grave sites.

My apprehension wasn’t due to the perceived creepiness of going to a cemetery, but how would I handle this emotionally. As a military wife and mom, I’d be placing flags at the graves of someone else’s spouse or child.

Previously, my only experiences at cemeteries had been emotionally charged because of the burials of relatives or friends. Would emotions run high for this event, too?

Volunteers gather in the center of the cemetery to receive flags and instructions, then disperse. Amongst those donating their time were several members of scouting groups and some veterans – a good mix of young and old.

Walking amongst the headstones is very humbling. There is an innate respect for the ground you are walking on, carefully tip-toeing to make sure you don’t “step” on someone. After a quick search of a seemingly endless row of headstones, you spot one. A veteran’s grave marker. It is unmistakable. Place a flag to the left hand corner of the marker and you’re done.

Or so you think, “done.”

In my case, I would stand a moment and picture what the service member may have looked like, in a uniform fitting the years noted on the marker. Looking at the dates, you know if this person was young or old when they died; if they had come home from war and continued on with their lives. Or, sadly, if the service member had fallen for their country. Super heroes who answered the call to serve.

I’d say a sincere thank you to each veteran, using his or her name, plus give a prayer of thanks to God that this person put their life on the line for me, my family, my friends, for future generations, and off to find the next marker. Yes, there was a certain soberness to the occasion but there was certainly cause to smile, hearing the distant shouts of an excited Cub Scout yelling “I found one!” then watching as he firmly planted a flag and a gave a quick salute.

Did my emotions run high? Yes, without a doubt.

Leaving the cemetery, seeing hundreds of flags swaying in the breeze, I whispered to my super heroes, “Thanks, guys. See you next year.”

And I’m proud to be an American, where at least I know I’m free. And I won’t forget the men who died, who gave that right to me. ~Lee Greenwood

How will you celebrate Memorial Day?

© 2012 – Lynne Cobb

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Playing in the sandbox

“I think when I was two years old in the sandbox. I think I formulated my basic philosophy there, and I haven’t really had to alter it very much ever since.” – Boyd Rice

My oldest son has been out of the house for almost five years, leaving home for basic training. Not too long after that, he got married, bought a house, and eventually faced a deployment. He also got to experience other “grown-up” realities, like budgeting, running a household, mourning the death of his wife’s grandmother – whom he just adored, and then mourning the loss of his own grandfather.

A boy when he left, he has grown into a fine young man. Of course, my heart bursts with pride for him, and for where life has taken him.

I love that he calls home to bounce ideas off of us; to ask questions and lay his concerns about life before us. Just recently I remembered something he said to me about a year ago at a particularly rough time.

“I wish I could just come home and go play in the sandbox.”

The sandbox his dad made was his and his siblings’ favorite spot to play. There were Hot Wheel cities, bridges made of sand and sticks, hand-carved paths for flowing rivers – which were then filled with several buckets of water. The kids and their friends would play outside in the sandbox for hours on end.

We have a shared memory, as I fondly remember the sandbox my dad had made for my siblings and me. The stuff we built and the fun we had. We, too, played for hours at a time.

A sandbox is a refuge for kids. Close your eyes and imagine the soothing feel of the sand as it is running through your fingers; or the sensation of squeezing the sand between your toes; or the therapeutic process that takes your mind off your troubles while you are busy building a sand castle.

“I wish I could just go play in the sandbox” has become our saying when life gets tough. I’ve repeated this wish to him during many conversations we’ve had regarding life, stress and when his grandfather was suffering with Alzheimer’s.

Just the other day, we were notified of a friend’s death. It was the same day that we heard that a dear neighbor is struggling with an aggressive form of cancer. And it was just a day after hearing of the very public struggles of a well-respected family in our area. There was other bad news that day, but those three illustrations surely make my point.

“I wish I could just go play in my sandbox,” I said to myself. And so I did. Closing my eyes for just a few minutes, I was in the backyard of my childhood home, playing in the sandbox. My dad was working in the yard, the sun was shining, and the warm sand felt wonderful on my bare feet.

And, for a just moment, all was right in the world.

© 2012 – Lynne Cobb

Note: this post was featured on Midlife Boulevard on Jan. 24, 2014.