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For the past two weeks I have endured another fear in my life while fighting with my right eye. For a few days, I thought the poor eye sight was going to win, then I decided it was time to let it rest. And so I did.

I am pleased to announce, my eye sight is much better now. Nightly, I have been a really ‘good girl,’ obeying the suggestions of my eye specialist by removing my contact every night. With every awakening, I see improvement. It is so special to have good eye sight again. Now, I must remember while working at a computer — I must take the time to look away from the screen. To remind me to do this, I have the TV on. Occasionally something from the Trial of Dr.  Murray/Michael Jackson will catch my attention and I glance away from the computer screen while continuing to allow my fingers to dance across the keyboard.

Another suggestion the doctor stated was for me to blink, blink, blink more often. “This is good for dry eyes,” she said, “And your right eye does have dry eye syndrome.” OK, so now I’ll blink more. If you, my friends, are reading this and see me out and about, now you will know why I am blinking more. No, I’m not batting my eyes at some guy. Simply blinking. Blinking…and blinking to lubricate my right eye!

I truly learned an important lesson from this experience. Just how many times have I ‘forgotten’ to remove my contact after wearing it for one week. DUH! I don’t know! I do not count those incidents. And — how many times have I worn the same contact for — more than two weeks? Don’t know!!!

While working at a university, I saw many students remove their contact, wet it with a bit of saliva and place it back in their eye. Trust me, I’ve never done that!

Now, after this experience, I will take better care of my eyes. I do not wish to lose my sight, and I don’t imagine others who are losing their sight want to have this happen, but things do happen in life. We just have to learn how to cope and deal with these situations. Today, I am so thankful to be able to see again, to not have to squint and focus with much difficulty and to not wear the “dollar store reading glasses!”

If you are a reader of my blog, you know a bit about me. My love for music. My love for dancing. My love for writing while working as a professional photojournalist. My passion for singing and karaoke, and simply being on stage.

Last night was a most memorable night for me. To quote my dad, ‘a night to record in Strolling in Memories Gardens.’ So here, for all the world to read, is  my most memorable night and occasion.

Saturday, September 24, 2011 was the night for the Back Porch Opera Extravaganza, and what a night it was! Earlier in the week, I posted a comment on Facebook about the dress rehearsal before the show. A most special friend from high school sent a message to me, wanting to know more details. We conversed and she and a friend decided to come to Charleston, to see the show and reconnect with me.

Who would ever suspect a distant friend from many years ago would travel from Georgia to Charleston, just to see me and listen to me singing!

Arriving at the show, we met at the front door, embracing so tightly, I did not want to let her or Pauline go! I suppose the hugs were to replace the lost years of our friendship. Giggling like school girls, we entered the building. I do believe I completely forgot my husband was with me — for a moment. The chatter in the room was silent for me. All I listened to was Darlene and Pauline and of course, my rambling excitement!

Sitting at our table I elaborated a bit about my unhappy childhood, how difficult my life was with my mother while sharing tidbits of my determination to get away from those memories. I inhaled, exhaled, fighting back tears. I did not want my mascara or glitter to smear before the show! “Those bitter memories could either destroy me, or build me. I chose for them to build me into the person I am today.” We continued talking, occasionally eating a bite of food and before long, it was time for the show!

As for the show, I do believe it was one of the best. Not only did we have a bunch of talented singers who performed like professionals with years experience, we had an amazing roar of audience participation! There were many standing ovations, much laughter, applause — whistles and lots of screaming fans within the audience!

Truly a night to remember. Today, Darlene and Pauline are driving back to Georgia. I awoke to a bright and almost blinding sunshine. Now, the clouds have returned, although in my heart, sunshine keeps me warm and toasty.

How is it a ‘lint head’ who grew up in a textile mill society is blessed to have such great devoted and loving friends who go out of their way just to reconnect? I am so blessed!

The week of 9-11 is a week to reminisce and be thankful.
Thankful of life, family, friends, loved ones you knew and loved ones you’ve
lost. Sunday, 9-11-11, is a significant day in history and in humanity. On this
date, exactly ten years ago, family members kissed, saying goodbye, making
plans for the evening, after a hard day of work. Perhaps some of these precious
people had dinner reservations, celebrations, or a simple family time at home.
It was a beautiful day in New York City, and other cities. America was kissed
with the brilliance of sunshine, blue skies and another gorgeous day. All of
that changed in the blink of an eye as a terrorist drove U.S. planes into the
Twin Towers.

Imagine this.

You work in the Twin Towers as a receptionist, or an
administrative assistant, busy at your desk, answering phones, taking messages,
organizing another day at the office. You glance out the window to see the
beauty of the skyline, but something is different. You see a bird. No. This
image is too big to be a bird. Sunlight gleams as the moving object gets
closer, and suddenly you realize this is not a bird! A plane. You struggle to
think. You must be dreaming. A plane cannot fly this close to the Twin Towers.
It wouldn’t be safe. The phone at your desk is ringing, but you ignore it for
just a moment. The image of the plane is moving closer. Closer. CLOSER. For a
brief moment you can see the shapes of bodies inside the plane as you realize
the plane is about to hit the World Trade Center. You inhale. Exhale. You blink
your eyes for the last time.

POOF.

After the terrorist’s attacks on the World Trade Center, the
Pentagon and the field in Pennsylvania, I had this dream many, many times. Living
in South Carolina, I wished I could be closer, so I could do something. I chose
to pray, write and contribute donations. My heart broke, and I wasn’t alone
with this pain. For weeks, America mourned and prayed. We spoke to strangers.
We attended church and we realized that in the blink of an eye, life can
change.

This is the week of remembrance for 9-11-01; the tenth
anniversary of how quickly America changed. Much has been written about those
moments as we recognized the planes flying into the World Trade Center were not
a ‘pilot error’ but an attack on America. An attack on freedom. An attack on
peace. Many, many lives were lost, and now, we are at war, although in all
reality, we were under attack and at war the very moment the attacks occurred.

I still remember that date, that moment. Still grieving over
the loss of my father in 1999, I had slept in a bit on that morning. My husband
phoned to see if I was OK. “Yes,” I said, sipping the first of several cups of
freshly brewed coffee. “I’m trying to wake up.”

“Have you heard about the World Trade Center?” My husband
asked.

“No. I haven’t turned the TV on.”

“Turn it on.”

Listening to Matt Lauer of the Today Show, my heart broke. “Oh
My God!” I said to my husband. Is this an attack on America?”

“We’re not certain,” my husband replied.

We hung up and moments later, the second attack occurred. I
was breathless. Shocked. Unable to believe that this could happen in America.

Now, ten years later, our world has changed. Still, I ache
as I dream about the images of people rushing down stairs. Making phone calls
to loved ones. Jumping out of buildings, knowing they will not survive. A
friend phoned me later in the day. She had a friend in New York, at the Twin Towers.
Her friend was eight-months pregnant, just like she was. “I don’t want to bring
a baby into this world now,” she said. “It isn’t right. My friend made a phone
call to her husband, saying she loved him and she and their baby would be fine.
She told him she was jumping out the window.”

For weeks, I was glued to the TV, watching the images repeatedly.
Seeing people flying in the air, jumping to their deaths. Hearing stories of
missing loved ones. Seeing pictures of loved ones who would never be found
again.

“It isn’t fair,” I said. Repeatedly. I cried an ocean of
tears for people I did not know. The grief was unbearable.

Our lives changed significantly after 9-11. I hope that we
will take the time to make every day special, to share our love with our
families and humankind, and we will realize how quickly life can change – in the
blink of an eye. Life is short, let us all make the most of each moment we
have.

In remembrance of 9-11. We will never forget.

This morning while reading overnight e-mails, I read one I would probably delete. The title intrigued me, a simple “Goodbye Vietnam.” Curiosity got the best of me, so I opened and read.

Just a brief, “hope you will listen.” And so, I clicked:

http://www.youtube.com/watch_popup?v=ASETse4oNlI&feature=youtube_gdata_player

This video is written by a war hero. It is a compelling story of “A highly decorated soldier’s story of becoming free of the nightmares and sleepless nights caused by post traumatic stress disorder from combat in Viet Nam. Once suicidal, medicating on alcohol and drugs is now free from it all and is looking forward to a new life after over 40 years of PTSD.”

As most of my readers know, I hold a special place of my heart for veterans, especially the Vietnam Veterans. My husband is finally proud to say he served in Vietnam. He suffers terribly with nightmares and PTSD. Sudden noises, even the simple slamming of a car door, or a household door, startles him. For many years, when he heard these noises, he would ‘hit the ground.’ If he saw someone wearing a pointed straw hat, he rushed away. Fireworks traumatized him. The scenarios could continue, but you’ll simply have to listen to this video and pay close attention to recognize only a bit of what our precious soldiers endure with a war. Still to this day, I cannot understand it. When my husband gets in a rage and attacks me verbally, I close myself away, knowing that ‘this too shall pass.’ When he is truly angry, I hear, “It don’t mean nothing!” I’ve grown to hate that expression, knowing full well, “It don’t mean nothing” is his way of shutting down in hopes his anger, rage and verbal attacks will pass.

Please share this video with your precious soldiers and veterans. Perhaps they will not want to watch it. If that is the case, do yourself a favor and listen to it. Have tissues nearby. Tears are dancing inside my eyes while writing this. While I cannot understand what happened, as the wife who has comforted, held, and listened to my husband talking about “the V-C” and “Charlie” has taught me to be appreciative that I have stayed to make our marriage work. Only 1% of the Vietnam era marriages survived. No, we do not know what they experienced, but I am proud to say, “Thank you for your service. I hope America learned from Vietnam.” Watch the video, “Goodbye Vietnam”

Have a great week and hug your veteran!

http://www.youtube.com/watch_popup?v=ASETse4oNlI&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Somehow, I totally lost my story about “The Day We Lost “Elvis the King,” so I shall try to re-write this.

For those thinking I’ve lost my mind, I haven’t — it was a ‘computer glitch!’

Thirty-four years ago, America and the world mourned when the death of Elvis Presley was announced. 1977 was a different time! Computers were still – just a dream in every home. Now, we have such a high-paced busy world we cannot even share dinner with family or friends without checking e-mail or text. Sometimes, we must get back to the simple things in life.

Thirty-four years ago, Elvis Presley was living his dream, although he paid a high price for that life. Addicted to so much medication he could not function without them.

Last year, December 2010, to be exact, my husband and I took a vacation to Memphis, TN. Every where we went, Elvis was alive. Strangers shared stories with us. True or not, they were quite entertaining! One particular woman shared a story and I will quote it here, in her words:

“I was standing by the bus stop once when a good-looking guy dressed in black leather rode by on a motorcycle. A Harley Davidson. Oh, it sounded so tough, just like him. He nodded as he passed and I smiled my biggest smile. A few minutes later, he rode by again. Only this time, he stopped. He asked me if I wanted to ride. Since he was so cute, I said, ‘sure.’ So around we rode on his tough sounding motorcycle. He sang to me while cruising around and I remember telling him he had a good voice. He laughed. ‘Honey, I hope so,’ he said. We stopped for ice cream and that is when he told me his name. ‘I’m Elvis Presley,’ he said to me. I laughed, unimpressed. A few minutes later, he pulled a ring box from his pocket.

‘Keep it, to remember me,’ he said.’

I didn’t keep the ring, giving it to a friend. I guess I just didn’t know who he was, but I’ve never forgotten that cute guy riding his motorcycle. Laughing and joking and singing to me.”

Who cares if the story is true, or not, but the memory of Elvis Presley, his generosity and kindness to strangers, the many gifts he shared with others, all of these stories are simply a reflection of the true Elvis Presley. The rebellious, gorgeous kind-spirited ‘cool looking guy on a motorcycle’ who rebelled, stood his ground and accomplished so much.

Rest in peace, Elvis Presley. Your legend and memory lives on and will be forever not just a memory but an icon for all who dreamed and believed that we can all do it, “My Way!”

While writing the newsletter this month for the local VFW, my heart is breaking for all the troops lost during this timeframe, especially on Saturday, August 6, 2011 in the fighting in Afghanistan. Details are still sketchy; reportedly, 22 Navy Seals have been lost, nevertheless, as a former military wife, I await the news, curious if any are from South Carolina and if any are female. Reportedly, ‘the remains of the soldiers’ [how I detest that expression ] are scheduled to arrive home today, August 9, 2011. The expression of ‘the remains’ seems to dehumanize just who and what these individuals were. Regardless of where their home of records is, all of these soldiers are comrades-in-arms. They are sons, daughters, husbands, wives, brothers, sisters, cousins, and so on. America will miss them. Nothing we say will make their loss easier, but as American citizens and Veterans we can say a prayer, in hopes that one day soon, America will have peace. Rest in peace dear soldiers. We mourn your loss.

According to
Armytimes.com:

The Naval Special Warfare community is experiencing “shock and disbelief” after 22 died in a helicopter crash in Afghanistan. Also killed eight additional U.S. service members, a civilian interpreter and seven Afghan soldiers.

“The CH-47 Chinook crash, which occurred during a raid in Wardak province, is believed to be the biggest single loss ever suffered by the NSW community or in the 24-year history of U.S. Special Operations Command.”

Reportedly, 17 were SEALs and five were direct support personnel. Two of the SEALs were from a West Coast SEAL unit, but the others were from Gold Squadron of Naval Special Warfare Development Group, or DevGru, sometimes known as SEAL Team 6. As a writer and someone who has a special portion of my heart reserved for the military, I would like to extend my deepest sympathy to all the family and friends of these brave soldiers.

From Jim Davis, Founder of Veterans-for-Change:

“The DoD announced the deaths of the following soldiers who were supporting OEF. Marine Sgt. Daniel D. Gurr, 21, of Vernal, Utah, died Aug. 5 while
conducting combat operations in Helmand province, Afghanistan. He was assigned to the 3rd Reconnaissance Battalion, 3rd Marine Division, II Marine
Expeditionary Force (Forward), Okinawa, Japan. Army Spc. Jinsu Lee, 34, of Chatsworth, Calif. died Aug. 5, in Kunar province, Afghanistan. He was assigned to the 2nd Battalion, 27th Infantry Regiment, 3rd Brigade Combat Team, 25th Infantry Division, Schofield Barracks, Hawaii. Army Spc. Mark J.
Downer, 23, of Warner Robins, Ga. died Aug. 5, in Kandahar province,
Afghanistan, of injuries sustained when enemy forces attacked his unit with a
rocket-propelled grenade. He was assigned to the 1st Battalion, 32nd Infantry
Regiment, 3rd Brigade Combat Team, 10th Mountain Division, Fort Drum, N.Y. Marine Sgt. Daniel J. Patron, 26, of Canton, Ohio, died Aug. 6 while conducting combat operations in Helmand province, Afghanistan. He was assigned to 8th Engineer Support Battalion, 2nd Marine Logistics Group, II Marine Expeditionary Force, Camp Lejeune, N.C. Rest in peace, and thank you for a job well done! Please keep these families in your prayers during this their time of need and comfort!”

Normally, the Navy Seals are a classified group of our military; however, these are not normal times. Below, I have listed a few of their names, according to http://www.thestar.com/news/world/article/1036327–profiles-in-courage-a-look-at-some-of-the-seals-who-died.
The article is worthy of reading, but please have tissues nearby.

• Michael Strange, Philadelphia, PA, on his third tour of duty in Afghanistan.
• Kevin Houston, carried an American flag under his body armor, with exception of this date. On his fourth tour of duty, recipient of a Purple Heart and two Bronze Stars.
• Patrick Hamburger, Grand Island, Nebraska – only in  Afghanistan for less than two weeks. Had future plans to propose marriage to his girlfriend.
• Aaron Carson Vaughn,  deeply religious, joined the Seals after boot camp.
• Kraig Vickers, Hawaii, father of three, wife is expecting their fourth child.
• John Tumilson, Rockford, Iowa
• Matt Mills, father of three, served missions in Iraq and Afghanistan. His grandfather served with the Marines after Pearl Harbor.
• Jason Workman, Blanding, Utah.
• John W. Brown, Little Rock, Arkansas, a paramedic. His mother called him “Rambo with an attitude.”
• Brian Bill, Stamford, Connecticut, desired to become an astronaut after his military service.
• Matthew Mason, Kansas City – refused to allow an arm injury stop him from serving with the Seals. After losing part of his left arm, he returned to his Seal unit. Father of two toddlers.

Every loss of a soldier leaves a hole in the hearts of the loved ones; it is tragic when so many lives are lost in one battle. As the news reports continue, the five stages of grief leave this editor asking why. Will we ever accomplish the missions we must to end terrorism and war? Perhaps only a Veteran can answer that question, but the grief I feel for all the losses in August, 2011, along with the additional lives we have lost previously in Iraq and Afghanistan and in other wars leaves me with such grief that I truly cannot express. My prayers are with all of our soldiers, past, present and future. We pay an extraordinary emotional price to have freedom in America.

Early this morning, my husband went to Ralph H. Johnson VA Hospital E-R, diagnosis of a most painful and infected ingrown toenail. Lately, it appears he is having trouble with his feet, probably a side effect and symptom of Diabetes. If you read my blog regularly you probably recall how furious I was a few months ago with this hospital and their Veterans care.

Today, I am pleased to report — his experience at the hospital was a good one. While it is true, I did not go with him, he is a man of truthfulness and reported back to me that the customer service as a veteran was a good one.

He wasn’t able to see a podiatrist since the doctor is on a medical leave and his regular doctor is on leave this weekend; however, yesterday, she did return his phone call in a prompt manner, so it appears that the service at Ralph H. Johnson VA Medical Center is improving!

Thank you! The last time I went with my husband, I almost had a cat fight with a certain nurse — and that is something I do not normally do! Nevertheless, like most women, there are certain buttons that can push me and when she reported to me in her condescending manner that “you can always go somewhere else,” — the emotions on my face were certainly an effective body language. Fortunately, for me, I chose to be diplomatic and walk away, but inside — let’s just say, my feathers were ruffled — big time.

So, I am happy to report my husband did receive a bit of service today, and reportedly, he will see a podiatrist. The question is when!??!

Nothing like the military cliché — “Hurry up and wait!” At least customer service is improving! Thank you Ralph H. Johnson VA Medical Center. You obviously are listening!  Our Veterans deserve good service and kindness and I must remember to practice that when my hubby’s PTSD kicks in. Let’s just say — he really pushes my buttons, ruffles my feathers and at times, can bring out the beast in me, and I do not like it when I am a beast!  I like to be a nice person, not someone that loses her cool!

Have a great day!

Today, I drove to the beach, ready for a relaxing day. I suppose it just wasn’t meant to be! Entering the Station 27 walkway, I turned left, only to discover a pile of dead fish along the shore! The closer I got, the more I discovered, including little fish, I suppose they were minnows? I do not confess to be a ‘fisher woman,’ just a woman ready to enjoy a nice day at the beach. Stopping, I grabbed my Blackberry, took a few photographs and posted them on Facebook.

Why are the fish dying? Could it be the extreme heat indexes we have experienced in Charleston for such a long time has decreased the oxygen? Or, could it be the water along the first lagoon is drastically polluted? Regardless, the dead fish need to be removed. At the moment, they were not smelling, but they will!

I have seen many children entering the water in this lagoon previously. I certainly hope they do not attempt to cross the waters into the next sandbar area without noticing the dead fish.

This discovery truly placed a damper on my enjoyment of the beach. Why are fish dying? Seagulls were standing along the shoreline, I suppose awaiting when they would have the freedom to eat the dead fish.

How I hope I do not have nightmares about the dead fish, and I hope all families will approach this area with much caution. Sullivan’s Island Town Hall — it is time to clean up and remove the dead fish! What an impression this makes for the Atlantic Ocean beaches!

When I heard the news that Gabby Giffords was in Washington to vote, I took a deep breath, thankful that she is improving every day and oh so thankful that she is still a strong woman!  Her recovery since the shooting has truly been amazing!

Women such as Gabby are rare.  My desire has always been to be a role model for others, especially since I grew up in a small mill town where survival was tough! I grew up admiring Jacqueline Kennedy, Katherine Hepburn  and the teachers who guided me.  In the twenty-first century it appears role models are hard to define; however, the grace, determination and strength of a woman such as Gabby Giffords truly makes me proud.

Gabby Giffords recovery is a day-to-day struggle. No doubt she has fought her way back, all to the credit of her husband who never left her sight during those days of darkness, and the amazing team of medical professionals who cared for her.

Gabby Giffords is a new role model for women and America. Yesterday, we all breathed a sigh of relief, just to see her! Way to go, Gabby. May your recovery continue to show women that we seek our dreams and serve as role models to the world!

As a responsible United States of America citizen, born and bred in the South, I cannot understand our politicians. Presently, there are ridiculous debates ongoing about the debts of America. Many of them have stated that we may not be able to pay our citizens — those who depend and HAVE PAID their portion to Social Security…not to mention those precious soldiers who are fighting our wars, to keep our peace. Do they really need to worry about how and IF they will be paid? What about their families? How do they survive IF American politicians cannot get their act together and recognize — hey, we need to make decisions/agree to disagree/but get the issues resolved.

If our credit rating is downgraded – just what will happen? That question brings me back to the early 1980’s when my immediate family was going through a crisis. Yes, it is true, we struggled, but I managed to readjust the family budget, and I went back to work – just to have a steady income to pay our bills. My husband was in construction at the time and the developers, contractors and such were similar to the American politicians. They would not pay! It was truly the worst financial crisis of our time as a married couple, but we dug our way out and survived, without filing bankruptcy and we worked hard to be accountable and responsible for all the commitments we had made.

I don’t know how you are feeling about the issues in Washington, but I feel it is time to get rid of all of these “Good ole boys.” Maybe they should take all of their millions, contribute them to the country to help America rise above these financial mistakes. Maybe they should have to worry about surviving with Social Security, Medicare and/or getting paid as a soldier — that is IF they get paid.

This is a disgrace. Next year is the year for all of us to take a stand and to tell Washington we are mad as Hell and we are not taking this anymore!

I am ashamed of all of them! Living in South Carolina, I am still a bit disgraced over our politicians. Yes, next year I will do all I can to voice my concerns by voting, and I suppose I will continue to voice my opinion in my blogs!

American Politicians…there’s nothing like ’em! Why can’t they simply recognize America has made the financial mistakes and it is time to pay these bills! We cannot allow our country to keep slipping away. It is time for “Made in America” to actually mean something again — instead of “Made in China….” “Made in Vietnam….” Etc. Etc. Don’t even get me started about all of the telemarketers who call me from India, or customer service reps who reside there to make hotel reservations, or to assist with complaints or service! Nothing gets under my feather quicker than the inability to understand someone who cannot speak the same language as I do so we really can communicate!

And now, I’m off of my soapbox for today. Stay tuned – I just might have another opinion!