My sister is Nola
I started the morning with a cup of coffee and my morning read of daily blogs.
A Modest Proposal for the 4th: Take back Old Glory caught my eye first. (quoted in part below)
The porch flag that went up on Sept 12th belonged to my father-in-law and came home with us when we cleaned out his house after his passing on Memorial Day 1998. He was a 20 year Navy man and it seemed like a good way to honor him, as well as our country during a time of our national sorrow.
It came down in shame the day our leaders declared war on a country that had nothing to do with Sept. 11th.
I've been thinking of having a second flag raising ceremony when our next president takes office. A new beginning. (Which ever one it is, I HOPE they bring change.) Being a proud American doesn't mean we get to put on rose coloured glasses and think our leaders can do no wrong.
But perhaps it was wrong to give up our flag to those who would spit the word liberal at us like it was a four letter word and call us unpatriotic for not going along.
Barack Obama, who earlier took some flack for his empty lapel, is on the cover of the latest Rolling Stone with flag pin gleaming. We should follow his lead. Everyone who's voting for Obama -- and especially those who are public figures (i.e. Keith Olbermann, Jack Cafferty, Rachel Maddow) must immediately procure a flag pin and not be seen without it before November 5th. If you can't do it with pride, do it as an act of subversion.And I like the idea of solidarity & a flag pin.
An act of subversion, starting now!
Next stop on my morning blog rounds was MOMocrats. :)
Then my heart soared for moment when I visited Steph's blog and saw how well she represents. I asked her to return the repaired angel to my sister's gravestone. I didn't have the heart for a visit to the cemetery on the 3rd. I got through the day with no tears and a just a little wistfulness of things that could have been. A little sewing combined with a bookmaking project I'll blog about on another day.
This morning is the anniversary of the day I told Dad and Mom about Nola's death.
That fast. There were tears. As fast as the flashback of a memory of daddy's embrace as I told them she was dead.
Sobbing. The gut wrenching kind saved for 4 in the morning when no consoling is needed. It's just the healing my soul needs to get through another year without my sister.
Happy birthday, Daddy.
Her memory will see you through this day too.