Tupelo Honey

It's amazing how a song can bring you right back into the heart of a moment.

It's been a long time since I've thought about my time in Korea.  Certainly I think about it in passing on a daily basis.  I have Korean masks on display in my office.  I wear my Seoul Pub rugby shirt to bed on a regular basis.  Very recently, news of events in South Korea have made me think about what it was like to be an ex-pat living in a country that is, technically, still at war and while not widely publicized has daily border squirmishes.

But I haven't really had one of those moments when my senses are thrown back into the moment and if I close my eyes that world swirls around me.

Today I was trying to concentrate on a project and put on my headphones to block out other noise.  On a random play list the song "Tupelo Honey" by Van Morrison came up.

And in a moment, I was thrown back into a little bar "up the hill" that we went to on a regular basis.  If I closed my eyes, I could smell the aftershave of the boys on 48 hour leave and the wafting aroma of foods not found anyplace stateside.  I could hear the music in the background and the laughter of people enjoying the freedom of leave or the freedom of a moment without students encircling their knees begging for attention.  I could taste the kool aide and soju of a "kettle".  I could feel the heat of the night and the weight of the humid air on my skin.

Normally Van Morrison wouldn't be something I would listen to.  Through a friend, I'd met a sweet man named Skip.  Skip was a contractor that worked with the US Military on security issues and regularly traveled to Seoul.  Skip had shockingly white, thick hair, a smile a mile wide, a gentele demeanor and when we danced my nose would be squarely in his chest. 

Skip was from the East Coast and had, by all accounts, a lovely wife and two grown daughters he adored.  Having been in Korea awhile, I knew the difference between someone looking to step outside of his life back in the world and someone who never waivered from what he was, no matter where his location or distance from his family.  Skip was the latter.  If he asked me to dance or bought me a kettle, it wasn't because he was trying to forget his wife, Joy, or accomplish some sort of ulterior motive.  He just wanted to dance with a friend. 

Skip was the sort of man that worried about us girls being in an unsafe environment and would call us when he heard intel that might suggest we should move to safer ground for a period of time.  He never told us any details, he just casually suggested that we might want to spend time south of the Hahn River so that should something happen, we not be trapped when they blew the bridges crossing the river.  He would bring us treats from home....magazines and books that we couldn't find in Seoul.  He would go shopping at the PX and bring us a fridge full of food that we'd have to pay triple the price for at a black market shop.  He genuinely cared about our well being.

Skip regularly told me I reminded him of his youngest daughter.  One night he requested the DJ play Tupelo Honey and asked me to dance.  He said that when he was at home and out and about, he'd always dance with his daughter to the song because she was "an angel of the first degree".  For the rest of our friendship, whenever Skip was in town, he'd request that song and ask me to dance.  Skip knew that some of the experiences I was having at the time made me question my worth and would continue to lead me down a road of insecurity and self doubt.  Being young and inexperienced in a environment like I was in can do that to a girl and it took me a long time and a good deal of therapy to reclaim what I'd always known to be true about myself.

Before I left Korea, I saw Skip and we danced to Tupelo Honey.  At the end of the song, he said, "Heather, please always remember that you're as sweet as Tupelo Honey."

I don't know what became of Skip, we lost contact when I left Korea. 

So for the sweet young girl that I used to be...

For the sweet young daughter I'm raising who will hopefully never question herself the way her mama did and will not have to go the sort of self doubt I did...

And for Skip where ever he may be.....

My Friday

It may be raining outside but my heart is light and my spirit is free.

It's my Friday.
I have an amazing husband.
I have beautiful, healthy children.
I have a great family.
I am not dealing with unspeakable natural catastrophy or leaders that rule by oppression.
I have a God and He is good.

And the best thing about me is them....

American Child

So....I'm sitting here working away (no, really, I was), listening to my Ipod, thinking about the ramifications of site limits and upload protocols and SharePoint when a Phil Vassar song came on.

And maybe because it was Vetran's Day yesterday.  Or maybe because that now that I'm a mom, I'm such a sap it makes the "Very Independent Heather" want to puke, the words made me mist up.

It doesn't matter if you like Obama or if you don't (and for the record for my extremely conservative friends or my husband, I had high hopes and I'm increasingly becoming very, very disappointed so knock it with the "what do you think of him now" comments I can't seem to get away from).

It doesn't matter if you think that our economy is going to continue a nose dive or not.

It doesn't matter what your politics, what your religion, what your hobbies, hopes or dreams are...

Things are still better for us here in the U.S. than they are in Kabul or Baghdad or Mogadishu.

And I am sincerely thankful that my child was born an American one.

American Child
Lyrics by Phil Vassar and Craig Wiseman

I was ten,
I was thin,
I was playing first base
with a secondhand glove and dirt on my face
In nowhere, Virginia
Who'd ever figure that kid in the yard would go very far
It was 419 Lakewood , had no silverspoons
Just an old beat up upright that played out of tune
Now I'm singin' and living the life that I love
And when I count my blessings I thank God I was
An American child

An American child
'Cause dreams can grow wild
Born inside an American child




Seven pounds, three ounces, she's got my nose
And she's into my heart as deep as it goes
With a promise that's more than just someone's last name
Anyone's equal, in late August came
An American child

An American child
'Cause dreams can grow wild
Born inside an American child

My grandfather would have been eighty today
But in '45 he fell down beside an American child

An American child
Oh, an American child
'Cause dreams can grow wild born inside an American child
An American child 

Surgery Soldier

My husband really is a trooper....we went through his second experience with rotator cuff surgery last Wednesday. It went much better than the surgeon had given us hope for - so that's excellent news! It turns out the tear was MUCH smaller than they thought - the issues were stemming from a huge build up of scar tissue that they were able to remove. We're hoping with this removal and intense therapy, he'll be good as new.

So, while he's not as sore as last time, he's still in a lot of pain - and bored out of his gourd. I feel so bad for him....I just want to snuggle him constantly to take away the pain and frustration.

Needless to say, I was doing some around the clock care last Wenesday, Thursday, and Friday. Waking up every three hours is so no fun.....oiy....and I know it's just a small taste of what I'm in for. Thank GOODNESS I'll have a few months off. I tried to work on Thursday - but it just wasn't happening.

On Friday - I was able to slip away to the Journey concert I had ticket for....it was a blast!!!! But lordy, I cannot stomach cigarette smoke anymore. It gave me a HUGE headache I have yet to get rid of. That was the only downer...wonderful venue, I love open air ampitheaters - but the smoke was terrible.

Saturday, we ordered our glider - yeah!!! It'll be here in 6 - 8 weeks, and I think I may start sleeping in it if Jim doesn't - I keep waking up flat on my back, and I know that's not good.

I also started work on refinishing the dresser we bought Maddy. FIL Ron let me borrow his painting mask. It makes me look like a cross between The Fly and a thermal nuclear war survivor....but it keeps the fumes out, which is what I need. I got almost everything stripped before I needed to use a new bottle of stripper - which neither Jim or I could open, darn it anyway. So, tonight, I'm taking it back to Lowe's and if they can't open it, I'm exchanging it for a bottle I CAN open.

So that's the quick (for me) update of the last several days....yeah for Monday's :

Emotional Rollercoasters

Two little words my life is about today? Emotional rollercoasters! Sometimes I wonder if I'm not completely loony. One minute, I'm high as a kite - loving life - feeling completely relaxed and at peace.

Can't you see it now? The car is chugging up the tracks of that double loop....
chugaluga chugaluga

Hey..this is nice! I can see for miles and miles....what a pretty view!
The carnie's music is heard faintly in the distance....."I can see clearly now, the rain is gone..."

I'm not scared, I'm having a great time....life is sweet!
clickclack clickclack clickclack

SWHOOOOSH!
The bottom drops out, but I can't scream....

Today, I came to work and I was on my game! I looked good, I curled my hair, I even wore MAKEUP! I felt like Jim and I were making excellent process on getting the house cleaned up - I spent the entire evening cleaning the carpet of the office we're sprucing up. Life is good! I'll certainly start a new cycle tomorrow and we're off to the baby making races! Yeah!

Then, a friend gives me a CD to burn. And I'm never one to pass up free music, so I burn it to my ipod. She tells me to listen to a certain song - that it reminds her of me and how I must feel.

Danger, Will Robbins, Danger....Abort....Abort.....

Let me just cut and paste the lyrics for you....I italicized the lines she said reminded her of my situation.

Where Angels Hang Around(James Otto / Monty Criswell)
A hundred miles out of Little Rock

Windshield full of rain

I-40 eastbound drivin’ while I pray

She’s asleep in the backseat

Holdin’ tight to her teddy bear

She’s got her daddy’s smile and her momma’s hair

But one word knocked our lives off track

Just one word keeps us comin’ back

Chorus

Across the Mississippi

A mile or two from Beale Street

Not too far from Graceland

Where the king of rock and roll sleeps

To a place for children

Where God sends his mercy rainin’ down

In the heart of Memphis

Where angels hang around

All the deals I’ve made with God

The conversations that we’ve had

Tryin’ to accept things I could not understand

I wanna walk her down the aisle

While those church bells ring

See her get the chance

To live all her dreams

But one word knocked our lives off track

Just one word keeps us comin’ back

Repeat Chorus
So sleep tight baby while these four wheels roll

‘Cause just beyond the clouds there’s a ray of hope
There’s a place for children

Where God sends his mercy rainin’ down

In the heart of Memphis

Where angels hang around

This is a dear woman - who is really trying to connect with what I'm feeling. Be there for me, right? And I love that about her,I appreciate that about her. And the good Lord knows I'm really open about all of this. So, I guess in a way I bring it on myself. But I'm to the point where I'll talk about it in a clinical sense, I'll tell stories about the experiences I have, I'll talk about the emotions I have and how I'm feeling anxious, but I need the people around me to be positive. Not remind me what a sorrowful experience it was.

So here I am at work, fighting off the tears, wondering WHEN people will stop making me feel bad. It's okay, we can talk about it - but did you really have to tell me this? Point this out? Are you kidding me?

Did I make deals with God? You bet your sweet bippy I did. Did I want to meet my baby and give her the chance to live a whole life? I wanted to give her the world! But I can't and that's that.

So, now it's time to look ahead...at least for today.
Windblown hair, sunburned cheeks, they pull into the station, ready for another chance at the ride.