You are not special

Thoughts?

We will never forget.....

For all those brave men who stormed the beaches, took the cliffs and freed a world.....we say thanks.  I am very proud that my grandfather was there, thanks PaPaw.

The Boys of Pointe du Hoc

By Ronald Reagan

(Note: The following are remarks delivered by President Ronald Reagan on June 6, 1984 commemorating the 40th Anniversary of the Invastion of Normandy.)

We're here to mark that day in history when the Allied armies joined in battle to reclaim this continent to liberty. For four long years, much of Europe had been under a terrible shadow. Free nations had fallen, Jews cried out in the camps, millions cried out for liberation. Europe was enslaved and the world prayed for its rescue. Here, in Normandy, the rescue began. Here, the Allies stood and fought against tyranny, in a giant undertaking unparalleled in human history.

We stand on a lonely, windswept point on the northern shore of France. The air is soft, but forty years ago at this moment, the air was dense with smoke and the cries of men, and the air was filled with the crack of rifle fire and the roar of cannon. At dawn, on the morning of the 6th of June, 1944, two hundred and twenty-five Rangers jumped off the British landing craft and ran to the bottom of these cliffs.

Their mission was one of the most difficult and daring of the invasion: to climb these sheer and desolate cliffs and take out the enemy guns. The Allies had been told that some of the mightiest of these guns were here, and they would be trained on the beaches to stop the Allied advance.

The Rangers looked up and saw the enemy soldiers at the edge of the cliffs, shooting down at them with machine guns and throwing grenades. And the American Rangers began to climb. They shot rope ladders over the face of these cliffs and began to pull themselves up. When one Ranger fell, another would take his place. When one rope was cut, a Ranger would grab another and begin his climb again. They climbed, shot back, and held their footing. Soon, one by one, the Rangers pulled themselves over the top, and in seizing the firm land at the top of these cliffs, they began to seize back the continent of Europe. Two hundred and twenty-five came here. After two days of fighting, only ninety could still bear arms.

And behind me is a memorial that symbolizes the Ranger daggers that were thrust into the top of these cliffs. And before me are the men who put them there. These are the boys of Pointe du Hoc. These are the men who took the cliffs. These are the champions who helped free a continent. And these are the heroes who helped end a war. Gentlemen, I look at you and I think of the words of Stephen Spender's poem. You are men who in your "lives fought for life and left the vivid air signed with your honor."

I think I know what you may be thinking right now -- thinking "we were just part of a bigger effort; everyone was brave that day." Well everyone was. Do you remember the story of Bill Millin of the 51st Highlanders? Forty years ago today, British troops were pinned down near a bridge, waiting desperately for help. Suddenly, they heard the sound of bagpipes, and some thought they were dreaming. Well, they weren't. They looked up and saw Bill Millin with his bagpipes, leading the reinforcements and ignoring the smack of the bullets into the ground around him.

Lord Lovat was with him -- Lord Lovat of Scotland, who calmly announced when he got to the bridge, "Sorry, I'm a few minutes late," as if he'd been delayed by a traffic jam, when in truth he'd just come from the bloody fighting on Sword Beach, which he and his men had just taken.

There was the impossible valor of the Poles, who threw themselves between the enemy and the rest of Europe as the invasion took hold; and the unsurpassed courage of the Canadians who had already seen the horrors of war on this coast. They knew what awaited them there, but they would not be deterred. And once they hit Juno Beach, they never looked back.

All of these men were part of a roll call of honor with names that spoke of a pride as bright as the colors they bore; The Royal Winnipeg Rifles, Poland's 24th Lancers, the Royal Scots' Fusiliers, the Screaming Eagles, the Yeomen of England's armored divisions, the forces of Free France, the Coast Guard's "Matchbox Fleet," and you, the American Rangers.

Forty summers have passed since the battle that you fought here. You were young the day you took these cliffs; some of you were hardly more than boys, with the deepest joys of life before you. Yet you risked everything here. Why? Why did you do it? What impelled you to put aside the instinct for self-preservation and risk your lives to take these cliffs? What inspired all the men of the armies that met here? We look at you, and somehow we know the answer. It was faith and belief. It was loyalty and love.

The men of Normandy had faith that what they were doing was right, faith that they fought for all humanity, faith that a just God would grant them mercy on this beachhead, or on the next. It was the deep knowledge -- and pray God we have not lost it -- that there is a profound moral difference between the use of force for liberation and the use of force for conquest. You were here to liberate, not to conquer, and so you and those others did not doubt your cause. And you were right not to doubt.

You all knew that some things are worth dying for. One's country is worth dying for, and democracy is worth dying for, because it's the most deeply honorable form of government ever devised by man. All of you loved liberty. All of you were willing to fight tyranny, and you knew the people of your countries were behind you.

The Americans who fought here that morning knew word of the invasion was spreading through the darkness back home. They fought -- or felt in their hearts, though they couldn't know in fact, that in Georgia they were filling the churches at 4:00 am. In Kansas they were kneeling on their porches and praying. And in Philadelphia they were ringing the Liberty Bell.

Something else helped the men of D-day; their rock-hard belief that Providence would have a great hand in the events that would unfold here; that God was an ally in this great cause. And so, the night before the invasion, when Colonel Wolverton asked his parachute troops to kneel with him in prayer, he told them: "Do not bow your heads, but look up so you can see God and ask His blessing in what we're about to do." Also, that night, General Matthew Ridgway on his cot, listening in the darkness for the promise God made to Joshua: "I will not fail thee nor forsake thee."

These are the things that impelled them; these are the things that shaped the unity of the Allies.

When the war was over, there were lives to be rebuilt and governments to be returned to the people. There were nations to be reborn. Above all, there was a new peace to be assured. These were huge and daunting tasks. But the Allies summoned strength from the faith, belief, loyalty, and love of those who fell here. They rebuilt a new Europe together. There was first a great reconciliation among those who had been enemies, all of whom had suffered so greatly. The United States did its part, creating the Marshall Plan to help rebuild our allies and our former enemies. The Marshall Plan led to the Atlantic alliance -- a great alliance that serves to this day as our shield for freedom, for prosperity, and for peace.

In spite of our great efforts and successes, not all that followed the end of the war was happy or planned. Some liberated countries were lost. The great sadness of this loss echoes down to our own time in the streets of Warsaw, Prague, and East Berlin. The Soviet troops that came to the center of this continent did not leave when peace came. They're still there, uninvited, unwanted, unyielding, almost forty years after the war. Because of this, allied forces still stand on this continent. Today, as forty years ago, our armies are here for only one purpose: to protect and defend democracy. The only territories we hold are memorials like this one and graveyards where our heroes rest.

We in America have learned bitter lessons from two world wars. It is better to be here ready to protect the peace, than to take blind shelter across the sea, rushing to respond only after freedom is lost. We've learned that isolationism never was and never will be an acceptable response to tyrannical governments with an expansionist intent. But we try always to be prepared for peace, prepared to deter aggression, prepared to negotiate the reduction of arms, and yes, prepared to reach out again in the spirit of reconciliation. In truth, there is no reconciliation we would welcome more than a reconciliation with the Soviet Union, so, together, we can lessen the risks of war, now and forever.

It's fitting to remember here the great losses also suffered by the Russian people during World War II. Twenty million perished, a terrible price that testifies to all the world the necessity of ending war. I tell you from my heart that we in the United States do not want war. We want to wipe from the face of the earth the terrible weapons that man now has in his hands. And I tell you, we are ready to seize that beachhead. We look for some sign from the Soviet Union that they are willing to move forward, that they share our desire and love for peace, and that they will give up the ways of conquest. There must be a changing there that will allow us to turn our hope into action.

We will pray forever that someday that changing will come. But for now, particularly today, it is good and fitting to renew our commitment to each other, to our freedom, and to the alliance that protects it.

We're bound today by what bound us 40 years ago, the same loyalties, traditions, and beliefs. We're bound by reality. The strength of America's allies is vital to the United States, and the American security guarantee is essential to the continued freedom of Europe's democracies. We were with you then; we're with you now. Your hopes are our hopes, and your destiny is our destiny.

Here, in this place where the West held together, let us make a vow to our dead. Let us show them by our actions that we understand what they died for. Let our actions say to them the words for which Matthew Ridgway listened: "I will not fail thee nor forsake thee."

Strengthened by their courage and heartened by their value [valor] and borne by their memory, let us continue to stand for the ideals for which they lived and died.

Thank you very much, and God bless you all.

Prayers for Patrick (not my brother)

There is a family Brooke has followed for awhile on Facebook.  The mother is from Kentucky, but she now lives in Hendersonville, TN (where Brooke is from).  The family is friends with a lot of Brooke's friends, and she heard about Patrick through mutual friends on Facebook.  Patrick is a 2 year old, blond haired, blue eyed boy.  Patrick is a big UK fan. Patrick likes Thor and race cars..... Patrick has a brain tumor they found just 70 days ago that was discovered by his pediatrician. His pediatrician happens to be his grandfather.  It is scary and shocking how fast your world can be turned upside down.  Patrick is an incredible fighter.  He has defied all odds to live this long but it is getting more and more difficult for Patrick.  They have stopped treatment for Patrick and are simply trying to make him as comfortable as possible.  I recommend you go to "Prayers for young Patrick F" on Facebook to read his entire story.  If you want, a video is available here....tissue alert

For the most part, I have refused to let Brooke read me any of Patrick's story.  It is simply my worst nightmare, and I cannot listen to it without getting emotional.  Yes, I recognize the immense struggle the entire family is going through, and the pain that Patrick must feel.  Selfishly, I shy away from the story in part because you can't help but imagine it being one of your kids. Being a parent can be one of the most challenging, yet rewarding things you can do as a human.  It isn't always beautiful but it is such an amazing ride.  However, sometimes the world is cruel, and occasionally you are placed in a position where must watch your children suffer.  You are always supposed to be the calm, reassuring force for the family.  Seeing your baby become ill is very difficult.  Seeing your baby slowly die in front of your eyes is unimaginable.  You suffer because their future is disappearing, you suffer because you can't take away the pain, you suffer because they suffer.  

Enter my girls above.  Brooke decided to have a garage sale this weekend.  With that, the education of what a garage sale actually is began for my girls.  They didn't quite understand why we were selling all our stuff.  One thing they do understand was getting money.  Dollar signs danced in their heads, and future plans were being made with their soon to be acquired riches.  At some point, Brooke told them to hit the brakes and slow down.  Perhaps with the garage sale they could also have a bake sale.  The next step then was to explain about the possible options of donating the money from the bake sale.  We don't think they fully understood what all this meant.  Brooke had to explain almost everything.  Some people don't have money, some people are hungry, some people don't have homes.  One thing they did understand was that there was a sick baby that their mother talks about, and that this sick baby could probably use the help.  The girls decided to make a poster (see above), and that they would donate some of their money from the bake sale to Patrick.  The girls decorated the poster above and Reagan thought it would be best to draw an angel watching over the sick boy.  Each girl made their own mark.  

Im not sure of the success of the garage sale, however the girls made $17.50 from their bake sale.  There were people who didn't even want the cookies but couldn't say no to the girls.  When all was said and done, Reagan made the executive decision that all the money should go help Patrick.  

This is a horrible situation, any way you slice it.  There are very few silver linings in this cloud.  Maybe, it will make you a little more appreciative of your good health.  Maybe, it will bring you closer to your God. Maybe, you will hug your children a littler tighter tonight.  One silver lining, for me, is how proud I am in the girls (all 5 of them) for doing what they can to help Patrick.  Im proud of Brooke for teaching the girls some good lessons,  and Im proud of the girls for giving up their money.   Brooke and I  thought it would be best to put some of our money in the pot to send to Patrick too.  None of it will pay back to Patrick and his family the lessons his family has given to mine.  A boy, far away, belonging to two parents we have never met, teaching all of us a lesson.  

All I ask is that your be thankful for your blessings.  Don't wait until a day in November to give thanks. If you believe in God, whoever your God is, say a prayer for Patrick before you go to bed tonight.  

Patrick,

I pray that your suffering is short.

I pray that your parents find comfort knowing that you will soon be snuggled by the Angels above.

Our loss is heaven's gain.

Wrigley Time

#REALTALK.  I believe in absolutes when it comes to sports.  If you cheer for Trinity, you cannot cheer for St. X.  If you cheer for UK, you cannot cheer for UofL.  If you cheer for Xavier, there is no pulling for the Bearcats.  Yankees vs BoSox, etc.  However, since moving to Chicago, I have been trying to figure out this whole White Sox vs. Cubs thingy.  You Chicagoans are so cute, but I don't get it.  You didnt go to either school, and to me that is where all fanatical allegiance starts and stops.  I understand that I come from an area where there is no professional sports. So, I am behind the 8 ball when it comes to die hard pro sports allegiance.  Being in Chicago you almost have to pick a sides.  There is no Switzerland...or Kentucky, depending on your war preference.   Growing up in Kentucky you are pretty much equidistance from Atlanta and Chicago.  With WGN and TBS, all I watched were Braves and Cubs game.  Dale Murphy and Andre Dawson.  Therefore, I guess I had a softer spot for the Cubs.  I wanted to come at this with an open mind and try to honestly figure out why someone cheers for a particular team here.

I have concluded that if you are born and raised in Chicago, or old school Irish, or a minority of any type, or hovering around the poverty line,  chances are you are a Sox fan.  If you are a transplant to the city, college student, or of an alternative lifestyle, you are probably a Cubs fan. All of them are very strange to me because for the most part, it is pathetic baseball.  I mean seriously.  Both teams, historically, have been beyond bad.  Yet the people of Chicago LOVE their baseball, and for that, I respect them both.

My experience with the Sox game has been documented and I won't elaborate too much more.  Just picture this....when you get off of the L, its like that long tunnel going from prison to freedom that you see in the movies.  You are surrounded by both criminals and guards on both sides.  You have only one way to walk, otherwise you face certain death.  Its all very sterile and very unfriendly.  Once you walk a couple of blocks, you get to a relatively new stadium.  It has all the amenities you would want at a park, including a big portrait of Obama "throwing" out the first pitch.  Does it get any better?  You have plenty of room to stretch your legs, great food selections, a jumbotron, and partisan gang wars in the crowd that would make A West Side Story jealous.  It is an experience that you should attempt to live through once.  Making it home in one piece is exhilarating enough.  I would suggest doing it when a team like the Yankees are in town. To the Sox credit, they are actually playing some good ball now too.

Then you have Wrigley and Wrigleyville.  Its interesting because when you take the blue line to the transfer station, you go one way for the Sox, the other for the Cubs.  Its a totally different vibe when heading towards the Cubs.  It is a much lighter atmosphere and the people are much friendlier.  It is a younger crowd as well.  Perhaps one too many "dudes" wearing skinny jeans, but quite a few ladies as well.  People are talking to strangers and I suspect have been pre-gaming for a while.  Before you know it, you see the stadium off in the distance.  It looks old but it looks like tradition.  Reagan's eyes lit up when she saw it.  The L takes you right next to the stadium. When you get off, it couldn't be more opposite of U.S. Cellular Field.  It is like a giant party.  People are all over the streets, drinking, celebrating, selling stuff, and eating.  It is a full experience and the game hasn't even started.  The field is sort of wedged in a corner but it is right there.  No need to worry about getting mugged, no walking very far.  We had great seats that were a gift (free) to me, so this was a much better experience.  Reagan and I sat down and it looks like an old stadium, both good and bad.  I kept instinctively looking for a jumbotron, I still haven't found it.  Thankfully we didn't have any obstructed views either, it would suck to pay all that money to stare at a beam.  For the record, the Cubs have the most expensive non premium seats in the ML.  I guess its for the experience, because the baseball generally sucks.  Regardless, it is always packed.  So much so, that people sit on the roof tops of near by buildings as if they were actually in the stadium.  I know right, crazy?  It was neat to see the fans celebrate every foul ball caught by someone.  It was neat to see the fans throw back a home run hit by the opposing team.  Don't worry if you miss it because you will probably have a few chances to see that tradition.  It was neat to sing "take me out to the ball game" for the first time with Reagan.  It was neat to see the W flag (raised after every Cubs win...so like a total of 12 times a year) after the game.  It was neat to sing the "Go Cubs Go" song after the game too.  The L was substantially more packed after the game with a much drunker crowd.  You are worried about getting mugged on the way back from a Sox game, you are worried about getting thrown up on after a Cubs game.  Either way, it was a great time, great win for the Cubs.  All in all, it was a day with Reagan that I will always remember, I hope she does as well.  We ate, and ate, and ate, this time without a tummy ache.  She spent the latter part of the game in my lap, or playing stupid little games with me.  She kept asking if "we" won, even after the 6th inning. 

I realized that there is a celebratory feel at Wrigley because there really isn't much to celebrate.  Just the small things.  There is a reason why they are called "Lovable Losers." You can't get around it, The North Siders are losers.  But there is a great lesson to be learned in all this....it isn't always if you win or lose, but how much fun you have at/with the games. They live that, year in and year out.  They are fans the way you should be.  Wrigley really is the friendly confines.  

On the way home I asked Reagan if she had fun, which thankfully she did.  I asked if she liked the Cubs, she said she did. She has a cute Cubs shirt courtesy of her mother too.  So here it comes, the million dollar question...I asked Reagan is she liked the Sox or the Cubs better??? Reagan said "both."  Not only did the Cubs teach me a sports lesson today, Reagan sort of taught me a life lesson.  Back to being Switzerland again...or Kentucky.

Happy Day, Mother

Mom,
I know today isn't Mother's Day, some may even think I missed it.  You of course know this isn't true.  However, just as I don't think you should need an Anniversary to tell your spouse that you are grateful for your journey together, and you shouldn't need Valentines Day to tell your SO that you love them, I don't think I should need 1 specific day to tell you how much you mean to Patrick and I.  You have always been the glue to hold the family together and the reason that Dad gets out of bed every morning.  You are a great role model as a parent for me, and as a mother for Brooke.  You are worshiped by your grand babies, they love being around you.  Your legacy lives on, differently, in each one of them.

I don't need to send a card, or make some proclamation on Facebook, to give everyone the appearance that I am dedicating a day to you.  Truth be told, most days are dedicated to you.  In the end, all I want to do is take care of my girls (yes that includes Brooke) and make you and Dad proud.  So, while I didn't have any redundant, cheesy, status update on Facebook yesterday about you, you know where I stand.  Not a call goes by where I don't end it with "I love you Mom."  This is my simple way of saying to you , everyday, "Happy Mother's Day!"

The Very Hungry (Caterpillar) Reagan

Today was Daddy (me) and Reagan's big adventure.  I got it into my head I was finally going to take Reagan to her first big league ballgame.  Earlier this week I checked the weather, then checked the schedules.  I'd preferred to take her to a North Siders game but it turns out that the South Siders were in town instead.  That meant a longer, more "interesting" path to get there.  The weather looked great, so I committed a ridiculous amount of money (considering I don't really care about the teams...sorry PJS) for her and I have to have great seats for the game.  I think the minute I bought the tickets the weather forecast tanked and just for Saturday.  I tried very hard not to get to worked up about the weather, but all I wanted to do was have a nice time at the park with my daughter.  This being her first MLB game, everything needed to be prefect (in my mind).  I want her to like going to the park and being with her daddy.  This was something very important to my dad and my PawPaw.  Its hard enough with girls in general, going to the park with cold and rainy weather would make it even more difficult.

So putting the weather aside, I began to map out our trek down there.  The easiest and cheapest way to get down there would be to take the L.  If you don't know what the L is....well its sort of like a mobile prison. It looks and smells very much like a prison.  The rules are the same too.  Stay to the right, don't make eye contact, if someone asks for your seat you give them your wallet, etc.  I tried to prepare Reagan but in reality I was trying to reassure myself.  I didn't want the crazies to be in the same car as my Reagan.  Turns out that part of the trip was no big deal.  It took about an hour to get to the park but it went off without a hitch.  Reagan didn't really understand why I wanted to get to the park so early, so I got to spend a lot of time telling her about how my dad and I used to do that.  You get there early to watch them warm up, to hear the sounds of the game, smell the grass, be in the moment.  So we got to the park before just about anyone and got to our seats.  Reagan in her bright pink jacket (see above), me in my bright blue UK jacket.  That's when it hit me, the Sox were playing the Kansas City Royals whose colors are blue and white.  The South Siders don't take to kindly to those who aren't wearing black and white.  I only hoped Reagan's cuteness would keep me out of trouble.  We weren't sitting down long, when a Sox crew member called me down to the front row.  We were about 4 rows back from the visiting bullpen, excellent seats.  I thought I was already in trouble, but instead he flipped me a ball and told me it was for my daughter. That is the second ball in a row she has gotten in as many games. It is difficult to convince a girl that you don't get a ball every game, when in fact she seemingly does.  After the excitement of getting the ball wore off, she said she was hungry.  We then proceeded to eat:
1) Three hot dogs between us
2) A jumbo pretzel
3) A giant licorice rope
4) Popcorn
5) Cotton Candy
6) Peanuts
7) And sunflower seeds.  Teaching Reagan how to eat and spit sunflower seeds is about the coolest thing I have done as a father.

Somewhere MaMaw was very proud.

About the time we get done with the orgy of eating, the heavens opened up and it began to rain.  I should have known something was wrong when it was 15 minutes till first pitch and the tarp was still on the field with no real players.  So we were cold, wet and in a food coma.  Its a good thing we were half asleep because at that point I felt just like this:

I was thankful the White Sox mascot was nowhere to be found or his fate might have been worse than Marty Moose.  However, it is what it is, there wasn't much I could do about the weather.  I tried to reassure Reagan that most of the time when you go to a MLB game there is nice weather.  Although it would have to be a park in a different city.  It is impossible for Chicago to have nice weather more than 2 days in a row.  Its not allowed.  Anyway, after about 35 minutes we were back in our wet seats ready for the ball game.  We hadn't even gotten to the game and Reagan starts to complain about a tummy ache.  Seriously?  What did you expect?  At this point I had enough.  I was hoping the game would be called and we could take a rain check, literally.  Just then the tarp comes off the field and the players are ready to go.  The rain had stopped.  And after we quasi dried off, I think it got a bit warmer because the wind stopped blowing.  

The game took place in front of us but we didn't care.  At that point we had been at the park close to three hours with no actual game.  The Royals score three runs in the first inning, and we were cold and wet.  The main reason we didn't really care is because in those moments the game really is ancillary.  She was so busy talking about everything she could think of, I was so busy just listening, that the game was just background noise.  At one point I look up at the jumbo tron and I see three different dads, with girls in pink coats, all playing a game on a phone.  Which was interesting because that was exactly what Reagan was doing at that moment.  By the time we got to the middle of the 5th, it started raining again.  I figured it was time to go.  Reagan didn't want to leave.  After waiting forever to see a game, getting a tummy ache, getting rained on, wanting to go home, she had come full circle and didn't want to leave.  The rain was coming down hard now, it was late.  The fireworks and funnel cake would have to wait for the next time.  We had a long journey home on the L and I wanted to beat the freak show home.

We pulled into the driveway sometime around 10:00 PM.  Our date night was over, time for bed.  I was a little sad that it was over, I was real sad the weather sucked.  The only thing missing from our night was PawPaw being with us.  Even with all the imperfections of the night, it was still  in many ways a perfect night.  One that I will cherish forever.  The hug she gave me in the kitchen was priceless.  She had even made me a thank you card.  I am already planning our next adventure to the North Siders park.  I know tomorrow is Mother's Day and I could never thank Mom or Brooke enough for what they do, tonight was Daddy's Day.  

Happy Birthday Baylor Grace

3 years ago today, Baylor Grace was born.  I cannot begin to write about all the joy she has brought to my life.  I was half yanking her chain one time and I said  "Baylor Grace, do you think you're going to make it through life on your good looks alone?"  She looked at me and said "Yes."  The other day Brooke was really yanking her chain something fierce and she said "Baylor Grace, who do you think you are!?"  She replies (through the tears) "Baylor Grace"

We are thankful for all the gifts in our life, Brooke and I have four beautiful and healthy girls.  Baylor Grace has been nothing short of a blessing and I love the way her mother and her go at it.  

We love you BGA, thank the good Lord for giving you to us.  I am lucky to be your father.