Tag: Aaron Mankin

THE OTHER SIDE OF WAR – A MOTHER’S SIDE OF WAR

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THE OTHER SIDE OF WAR and A MOTHER’S SIDE OF WAR are the same book, but under different titles. I decided to offer the book under this other title in order to raise awareness that this is a book about healing after war. It doesn’t speak only to mothers. It is a story that warriors, spouses, and older children can relate too. Those from all walks of life will relate to this family that has been affected by war. The warriors are not the only ones who have been injured and must find their own place of healing. Families, friends and communities have been forever changed by those injured while serving.

This true story was written with the intent to help those who are hurting. As well as to educate those who don’t have a military connection, and have no idea about the hardships that our heroes and their families are going through on a daily basis.

I have released both titles in paperback at cost, $5.00 plus shipping, if purchased through me at alwaysamarinemom@yahoo.com.

There are several organizations who will be giving the books out at Christmas, retreats, and adding them to gift bags at fund raisers and year end meetings. Others are ordering just for themselves.

Please consider gifting this book to those you know who may need a look into the world of our wounded, and the remarkable, heroic, efforts of people who are eager to help. The message is “You are not alone,” to those who are in the midst of their own post war lives.

Please spread the word.

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Waiting, Waiting, and More Waiting

Exert from The Other Side of War pg. 16. (It was 24 hours after Aaron was injured in Iraq. He is in Germany, where they are stabilizing him to be transported to Brooke Army Medical Center.)

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It was Thursday evening, and I was sitting on our back patio, thinking, crying, hoping, and conversing with the night wind. Only a few months earlier, my three children’s voices had filled the night air, with the joking around and laughter only the young seem to express so unflinchingly. I wondered about Aaron’s medical needs and if he was on a respirator, or if he did not need one. Was he aware of what was going on around him, or was he kept unconscious? Did he know how much I loved him and how it was tearing me up inside, not being with him?

As the early morning sun slowly began to touch the clear, peaceful sky, all I could think of was that Aaron’s eyes mimicked that same cool blue color. I sat there with the phone held tightly in my hand, waiting anxiously for the next call, even though I knew I would not hear anything until he was ready to be transported from Germany to San Antonio.

The Lord had already assured me He would not take Aaron’s life, so the thought of getting that phone call wasn’t even in me…

Mothers of Today

HAPPY MOTHERS DAY to all you moms on our special day!  I hope your day is filled with the love you deserve! You are the strength behind those who have made this nation what it is today. You have cradled and taught with love and compassion those who have grown to be the leaders of our country through the years. You are raising up the next generation that will be responsible for the future endeavors to maintain our freedoms. Be proud of who you are, and the importance of your passion to be mothers! God bless you all, and may He hold you firmly in His hands.

One By One

One by one they decide to serve this country during a time of war. One by one they continue to sign their lives away, if that’s what it takes. They have each made this decision knowing they may pay the ultimate price.

One by one they stand strong, as they look to the one on their right and to the one on their left. They pledge to fight for each other, as well as for country, family and home.

One by one they watch, as the one who stood beside them falls. And another steps up, one by one they stand, they fight.

One by one they return home. One thing that never entered their minds was returning home changed, injured, mutilated, unrecognizable.

One by one they fall through the cracks. One by one they take their own life, the one they so eagerly signed over to serve. One by one for every hour of everyday, they die.

Why is it that one by one we turn our eyes away? One by one we choose to ignore, to act as though we don’t know their struggles, to not reach out to those standing so close.

One by one we will be held accountable. Which one are you, the one who served, the one who reached out, or the one who quietly turned away?

Be the one, the one who cares, the one who listens, the one who stands up for and beside them. Be on their right, and on their left, walk before them. And always have their back–as they had yours.

Please, do what ever you can. Let’s stop death by suicide among or warriors!!!

As They Heal, Our Nation Will Heal

When a warrior returns home from battle, they are changed. If their scars are visible they are recognized as wounded heroes. Heroes who have paid a price for our freedom. And we think we can comprehend what they have given simply by looking at their scars, but we cannot.

For those who come home with invisible wounds, well, we are still in our infancy as to addressing their need for compassion and healing.

There are always those people who are visibly helping our wounded, the nurses, the doctors, the volunteers who have dedicated their lives to serving those how have served us. There are private organizations that have sprung up all around this nation to help “take-up the slack” for our heroes. Operation Mend, The Gary Sinise Foundation, Operation Homefront, The Elizabeth Dole Foundation, and The Bob Woodruff Foundation are just a few worth while organizations to be recognized.

The goverment of this great country of ours has been overwhelmed by the large number of injured returning from war. They are unable to provide each of them with the personal, diligent care to heal that they so glaringly deserve.

The burden to watch over our wounded warriors falls most heavily on the families, friends and communities where they live. The support that is received in each of their hometowns is the defining factor as to the level of healing that will take place in their lives.

As they heal, our nation will heal. When you give of yourself to any wounded warrior and their family, you will find that your own heart will begin to heal in a place that you did not even know was in need.

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Bitter or Better

When our life changes because of an unforeseen circumstance, it can change how we see ourselves and how others look at us. This can be something that changes us on the inside – where no one else can see, or it can be an injury that alters our appearance – something that everyone can see. We each have to decide if this is going to make us bitter or better.

I think we can all say that life has thrown us whirling in the wind a few times. Most times we just keep on going after dusting ourselves off. Sometimes we cry and stomp our feet about how someone has “done us wrong,” but we still keep doing the things that must be done. And life continues, a little different, but it still continues. These are not the types of changes I’m talking about.

When I look at my son, and all that he has been through in the last ten years as a wounded warrior, I’m humbled. This young man took what would have made most men crumble, and allowed it to make him better not bitter.

When I look at my daughter, the mother of a Down Syndrome child for the past 11 years, again I am humbled. Sarah has taken a child that some told her to throw away, put in a home, go live your life, and made herself better not bitter.

I can’t imagine life without the examples of strength, courage, and commitment that my children show me every day. They make my life better.

Silver and Gold

Silver and Gold,

Silver and Gold,

Families of heroes,

Both Silver and Gold.

A warrior is gone,

And with death there is sorrow,

As their family lets go,

A Gold Star in the window.

A warrior is wounded,

Life has been changed,

For a Silver Star family,

Life is never the same.

Silver and Gold,

They both have seen loss,

Precious their medal,

Two paths that cross.

Silver and Gold,

When joined together,

Gives strength to both,

Supporting each other.

Silver and Gold,

Working for good,

Making sure we remember,

They gave what they could.

Silver and Gold,

Silver and Gold,

Families of heroes,

Both Silver and Gold.

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Warriors

I have not met one single warrior who has come home from war and accepted the title of “HERO.”  Even though they have been through tremendous pain and suffering from injuries, or suffered from the emotional scars of PTSD, they still do not like being referred to as heroes.

It took me a while to understand why, when my son came home from war wounded, he had a kind of discord to this word when it was applied to him.  You could see him physically tremble, when this word would come his way.  He refers to the scars he will always carry as badges of honor.  And at the same time, he says they feel like he is wearing a heavy coat every single day.  He can not feel the touch of my hand on his burn-scarred arms, unless I apply enough pressure to push through the scars to the muscles that remain.  It’s so sad when a mother’s touch often times cannot be felt…

Why–we all wonder–do our warriors not feel justified in holding this title they have all so willingly fought for.

The answer is simple–they do not believe there is any such thing as a hero.  Throughout all the wars in the history of our nation, those who fought have never liked this word.  All every warrior believes they have done is to fight for their families–their friends–the one standing beside them–the one behind them.  And this is simply what they believe anyone would do.

Heroes are something we create, to somehow justify the fact that we were not on those battlefields with them.  We believe we are honoring the sacrifices these warriors have made for us.  But it is not the way they want to be honored.

If we want to honor those who have fought, died, and come home wounded, then let us honor them in the way they want–for what they fought for.

Let us all remember our grandfathers, fathers, partners, and children, as they were and are, precious, courageous, loving souls who took on the job of protecting us and others.

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Your Light

There are those who bring a Light so bright to those around them that even after they are gone, their light remains.

I miss you all so very much, Daddy, Mom, brother, Keith, and sister,Cheryl…

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Thunder

The darkened, cloudy sky’s,

Above the rolling ocean waters,

Caused the marine to feel

The thunder of his lost brothers.

~ Diana Mankin Phelps

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