Election year... turning my jeers into cheers

Photo by Peter Griffin

This morning, as I was thinking about the upcoming election and the political ugliness that is all around us, I realized my thought processes were all wrong. Rather than hating this time of year (which I tend to do because of all the political ugliness), I started to be grateful for it. Why? Because I should be. And, if you're living in a free country, so should you. After all, we have the freedom to decide for ourselves which issues mean the most to us, and then, we can vote accordingly. Do you know how incredible that is? Do you realize how many people around the world would kill for that opportunity? And have done so? And have died for it?

Oh wait, we don't have to travel to other countries for that, do we? Here in America, our own fellow countrymen did just that. They died so we could have this freedom. So, who am I to gripe about it?! Please forgive me for my self-centered obsession.

Do I like the political ugliness? Not at all. Do I enjoy the bickering? Absolutely not.

But, I relish the opportunity to pull the levers that best represent my views and my ideals, don't you?

Today, especially, on the 11th anniversary of that hideous day in our history, I am thoughtful of this whole process. The process of deciding what each one of us believes is best. Your opinions might be different than mine, but in the end, we probably agree on one thing -- we're happy to be living in a time and place where we all have the chance to vote. 

God has blessed America. I pray that, in some way, America blesses God. 

Please take the time to watch this brilliant commercial and pause to remember.

Longing for the days after 9/11

Public Domain Photo: Library of Congress

Please do not take this the wrong way, but I long for the days following 9/11 when we were under attack by terrorists and not each other! When we were fellow Americans and not identified by race, gender, faith or political affiliation. When prayers were being said and no one was threatening to sue over it. When we acted as if we truly were free. Free to express opinions. Free to share our faith. Free to weep openly. Free to help a stranger. Free to care. That's what defines those days in 2001 for me... caring. We cared more about each other than we did about our own personal ideologies.

This election year is becoming one of the nastiest ones ever. And I, for one, am sick of it. I'm sick of the ugliness. It used to be just the politicians' nastiness that we had to deal with. Now, with social media, it's everywhere. Friend against friend. Brother against sister. Church member against church member. PLEASE make it stop!! At what point did we become so intolerant of each other? And no, I'm not about to go into a rant about tolerance. It's just that those screaming loudest about tolerance are some of the most intolerant people I know. Give me a break!

Here in America, we're a nation of many different beliefs, ideas, dreams, lifestyles, etc. That's what adds color to our country. Yes, there are times when we must take a stand for what we believe in. But do our stands have to be so darned ugly? For me, I know that the moment someone starts yelling or condemning others is the moment I stop listening. Your Facebook posts demeaning others will not change my mind about an issue. However, a reasonable conversation might. If you listen to me, I will listen to you. But if you start out by insinuating that I am an idiot, the possibility for a dialogue is done. It just won't happen.

Like I said, I long for the days following that tragic, tragic time in our history. The days of embraces. Of shared grief. Of camaraderie. I guess I'm just living in a dream world.

Sharing my political views,

Hana

My Country, 'tis of Thee

My country,' tis of thee,

sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing;

land where my fathers died,

land of the pilgrims' pride,

from every mountainside let freedom ring!

My native country, thee,

land of the noble free, thy name I love;

I love thy rocks and rills,

thy woods and templed hills;

my heart with rapture thrills, like that above. 

Let music swell the breeze,

and ring from all the trees sweet freedom's song;

let mortal tongues awake;

let all that breathe partake;

let rocks their silence break, the sound prolong. 

Our fathers' God, to thee,

author of liberty, to thee we sing;

long may our land be bright

with freedom's holy light;

protect us by thy might, great God, our King.

~ Samuel Francis Smith

Friday's 3Rs -- Recycling memories

Jim and I on our honeymoon 6/8/81

Wow. Here it is -- September 9th again. Twenty-two years ago, my husband, Jim, lay in a hospital bed with third degree burns over 98% of his body. I sat by his side, holding the boney gloved remains of his hand, whispering "I love you"s and softly singing to my husband of eight years. He lasted 23 hours in that condition before finally surrendering to Eternity's call at 1:00 a.m. on September 10th.

A year does not slip by without my reliving those couple of days back in 1989, recycling memories. PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) plagued me for over a decade. Nightmares and panic attacks were quite common during this time of the year. Now, 22 years later, I still experience a twinge of it from time to time. A memory will slay me and my insides will start to quiver. I've learned to roll with it, experience it, and then go on with my day. It just seems to be a better solution than to just suppress the feelings.

The grief over my loss has absolutely nothing to do with the happiness I feel with my "new" life. One does not trump the other. I loved/love both of my husbands deeply, and there is nothing wrong with that. While some may have questioned my devotion to Jim when I moved on so quickly with Bill, my heart knows the answers and that is all that matters. After all, it was my heart that was ripped to shreds on September 10, 1989.

So today, I recycle my memories. They are recycled by necessity, as there can be no new ones to create. Jim and I were given less than a decade to form a family and gather a collection of memories. Wouldn't it be a disservice to what we had not to revisit it from time to time?

As it would be a disservice to the thousands who lost their lives ten years ago on September 11th, when evil tried to destroy good ... and lost. Perhaps to the many who endured loss that day, pain overshadows the 'victory.' But the reality is that the sinewy talons that reached into our complacency and tried to inject the poison of evil into our collective soul, failed at their mission. Evil did not prevail. It simply did not.

As we recall that day of unspeakable horror 10 years ago, let us remember it with truth, recycling our memories, not repurposing them. It is important we do not let political correctness, tolerance or outright lies taint the memories we have of that bright sunny morning when evil flew across the sky and laughed in the face of God. September 11th does not belong to the vicious men who perpetrated this attack. It belongs to the heroes, both sung and unsung; it belongs to the widows and orphans; it belongs to those who died, and those who endured.

We grieve. We shudder. And ... we remember.

May God continue to bless America, and may we never forget,

Hana

To learn more about my husband's death, please read Tears in a Bottle.

A mosque at Ground Zero

I'm a bit perturbed. Why is it that if we, as Americans, object to the building of a mosque a mere 600 feet from Ground Zero, words and titles are thrown about in reference to us, like 'racist,' 'intolerant,' 'right-wing radical,' etc., etc., etc.???

I, personally, am tired of being told that Muslims are peace-loving people and that Al Qaeda is an extremist group that holds different views than the majority of Muslims. Really?

Well then, let me ask you this: Why is it that Christianity is not tolerated in most of the Muslim countries and that violating the law by proclaiming Christ results in torture, imprisionment and/or DEATH? Are all those countries ruled by Al Qaeda? Where is the tolerance here?