Tag: never forget

There is a story, for every day, of every year past.

On By AngeliaIn Angels among Us, Timeless Treasures23 Comments

Do you remember this time last year? What you were doing? Where you were going?

Do you have days when you realize…..Wow, that was a YEAR ago…….really? It stuns you.

You can’t believe the time has flown by, that it’s December, almost Christmas and New Year’s (again).

I have glimpses of those years past all the time. Maybe, it’s just having a good memory, or from the photos I take.

For instance, I came across this photo.

Two years ago, bowling with a broken right hand.

This was at the end of the seven weeks casted at my friend Karen’s birthday party. My cast was pretty grimy and I had (almost) mastered being a one-handed (with a non-dominate left hand) typer, writer, hair washer, and eater extraordinaire. Amazing what you can do when you have to. However, my bowling was not so hot – at all. I always remember my cast this time of year, because I could NOT put up the tree one-handed.

Last Thanksgiving, this is what the girls looked like together. Crazy cute, right?


This year.

Still crazy cute!

What’s funny about this is Brownie. Last year, Molly had a death grip on Fred; my mom’s Shih-tzu and our love of Fred is the reason we ended up getting Brownie Poo in July.

Molly holding Fred.

Yesterday was my Dad’s birthday. His last birthday.

A year ago today, was the last day I hugged my dad, and kissed his cheek.

We drove to Ada on Saturday. Sydney made her first loooong driving trip in the driver’s seat under our supervision (notice I was in the backseat). She was fifteen with her freshly printed permit.

Sydney with only her drivers permit driving to Oklahoma.

She did very, very good. We drove straight to the hospital where dad had checked himself in about a week or so before. He had a hernia that perforated part of his bowel and they had done surgery. I had talked to him on the phone, his birthday, and he sounded pretty weak. But fact is, he had worse things happen health-wise in his life. This wasn’t anything. But…in all the hustle and bustle of this time of year, I opted to just stop, and spend the day traveling to Oklahoma to see him. Just in case. IF something happened, I didn’t want to have any regrets, or I should haves….

We arrived to his room and he looked a little more worn than I expected, but better than what he had sounded on the phone. He did look older. Jason, Sydney, and I sat and visited for a while. I don’t like hospitals. I, especially, don’t like Valley View. My grandpa died there, my second cousin, my step-dad…..I just don’t like the place. The only thing good from Valley View was the memory of seeing my favorite aunt, dad’s sister, there. She used to work at the front desk and as a crazy teen I would stop by to see her. But she had moved to Houston many, many years ago.

Dad was watching football.

Dad was a man with nine and half-lives.

Dad was going to be fine.

I left the hospital room with a squeeze and a kiss fully knowing, I would see him again. At home, in front of his big screen TV, watching OU, with his trusty Buddy dog at his side.

We went to the local Mexican food place for my fill of queso with mushrooms from Polo’s. The only place that makes it just the way I looooves it. When we go to pay, I realize, I don’t have my purse. Now, you know what happens when a girl realizes she doesn’t have her purse, and all her worldly possessions on her persons.

Yeah.

It’s panic mode. I searched the car, the restaurant, the sidewalk……everywhere….and came up with only ONE place it could be. My dad’s hospital room.

Huh.

Isn’t that strange? Because, I never lose my purse. Or forget it.

Never.

At first, I was a little irritated. We had said good-bye already. We were ready to hit the road for the long three hours of driving. What was this?

Then, I gathered my thoughts. I listened to my instincts. One thing I wished I had done was brought dad a present, or a card. In our rush, we had just taken off from Texas and came to the room empty-handed. So we went to the local Wal-Mart and I shopped for my dad’s Christmas. I shopped to cheer him up in that dreary white-walled hospital room. And I brought him his favorite things – OU stuff.

I also, picked up a Christmas fern plant in substitute for a Christmas tree, just in case, he was stuck there until close to Christmas.

Dad's OU blanket and Christmas fern.

He brightened up when we returned. It wasn’t just the gifts either. It was the surprise, the second visit in a day. I didn’t even mention my purse sitting on the empty hospital bed in his room. He kept wanting me to hold his blanket up so he could see all the colors (he is color blind like me). Reds he DOES see. The furry bear guy – which I have no idea what he has to do with OU – reminded him of his Buddy dog. He loved it. He had me lay it out on the bed next to where he was sitting. We admired the blanket. We admired the Christmas fern. We watched some football together, talked, and laughed. I left happy I had gone back. I needed that time and his smiles. No regrets. I knew, I just knew, he was going to be fine and recover – like always.

Dad passed away about midnight the next day of major heart failure.

My last-minute trip to Oklahoma. My return to that hospital room. It was no accident. It was a gift. My Christmas gift. From God, from dad, from the world of father’s and daughter’s. It was my last good-bye. My last memory.

Oh, how I cherish my favorite blanket.

Merry Christmas Dad. I miss you. I remember this day…has it really been a year?…and I’ll never forget it.

In Remembrance of 9/11

On By AngeliaIn Life is what you make it.17 Comments

Nine years ago today, I remembered where I was, and what I was doing.

I remembered the fear.

I remembered the love uniting us – one nation under God.

But mostly, I remember the patriotism of the strong, and the brave. Lives were lost, and lives were saved.

To the heros, and to the perished. I remember you.



    Oh, say, can you see, by the dawn’s early light,
    What so proudly we hailed at the twilight’s last gleaming?
    Whose broad stripes and bright stars, thru the perilous fight,
    O’er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming?
    And the rockets’ red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
    Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.
    O say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave
    O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave?



    On the shore dimly seen through the mists of the deep,
    Where the foe’s haughty host in dread silence reposes,
    What is that which the breeze, o’er the towering steep,
    As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
    Now it catches the gleam of the morning’s first beam,
    In full glory reflected, now shines on the stream:
    Tis the star-spangled banner: O, long may it wave
    O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave!



    And where is that band who so vauntingly swore
    That the havoc of war and the battle’s confusion
    A home and a country should leave us no more?
    Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps’ pollution.
    No refuge could save the hireling and slave
    From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave:
    And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
    O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.



    O, thus be it ever when freemen shall stand,
    Between their loved home and the war’s desolation!
    Blest with victory and peace, may the heav’n-rescued land
    Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation!
    Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
    And this be our motto: “In God is our trust”
    And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
    O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

(Composed by Francis Scott Key, “In Defense of Fort McHenry” in September 1814. Congress proclaimed it the U.S. National Anthem in 1931 — history follows.)

Never Forget.

*Photographs taken in Arlington, Texas, on this day, in remembrance of September 11th.

9/11- Never Forget

On By AngeliaIn In my heart forever & everLeave a comment

As well all do, I remember this day, eight years ago, very distinctly; down to the minute. I was driving from Benbrook to west Fort Worth heading to work. I was at the light of Vickery and Horne, when I heard on the radio that something had happened. A plane had crashed into a building. That is all we knew at that point. The world thought it was a tragic accident? An aircraft malfunction? A misroute?

It wasn’t until I got to work among all of my stunned co-workers when the second plane hit. Then, we knew it was no accident. Hearts sank as we watched the burning of the building. The frantic response of the FDNY, and the NYPD. The people streaming from the streets, displaced and in shock.

I remember the phones were completely silent. Not one single call. The world was watching a tragedy unfold.

News of the hijacked planes in the air, the crashing of one in the Pennsylvania field. The crashing of another into the Pentagon. It seemed it would never end. How in the world did this happen? The FAA grounded all planes. At that point, we were desperate to check all of our live records to see if we had anyone in danger of being on board one of the hijacked planes or a possible hijacked plane.

We did not.

I remember waiting, with breath held, as they tried to get in contact with one other plane that was enroute to LAX. It would have had a lot of fuel coming from the east. We waited to see what it might devastate.  Finally, confirmation came that it was not hijacked.

The towers tumbled down as America watched in horror. The crashing and burning of those buildings matched the ache in our souls, for all the lost, the unaccounted for, and the emergency responders.  America would never be the same. We were crippled. We were so unprepared.

The rest of the day, the rest of the week, and month. My job was to move people, from plane to plane, who were trying to get home. Refunding tickets of those, too afraid, to travel on a plane. Booking rental cars, from as far as California, to drive to Texas, or Illinois; wherever they were just to get home and be with their families.

The travel industry itself came to a standstill. In that month, after 9/11, our agency refunded over 41,000 dollars and had no revenue. To this day, I still cringe booking a flight for a client traveling on 9/11. Never Forget.

Yes, I remember that day. I will never forget those lives lost. Those hearts broken. The absolute battering of our country’s spirit.

I am glad I can stand proud, despite it all. Our flags still fly. Our spirits are still strong. Our military still fight. God strengthened us as a country.  Today, it is safer to fly in an airplane than ever before. We learned the true meaning of a hero. We still stand as one.  When our country stops remembering, that is when all is for naught. We must stay strong and keep their memories alive.

Honor and remember those brave and those lost on this anniversary.

May God bless you. May God bless and comfort those hurting.

Never Forget.