"You're his witness now. Without a witness, they just disappear."
- Taking Chance
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
"A HUGE Victory for the Yankees" from Steve
Back in 2005 my father and Steve took a weekend trip to see the battlefield at Gettysburg. They invited to me tag along but I thought they would rather have some time together. As my father never had a son, and Steve's father died when Steve was twenty, this was a special time for the two men in my life. I could certainly give them that time to be together.
When they came back my father delighted in telling how Steve got his new shoes all muddy because he had to go down and touch the water in the creek. Steve's shoes were so muddy that he later had to walk into a convenience store in just his socks. This from a man who never walked barefoot except the one step from his slippers to the shower and back. My father was certain I would throw a conniption fit. But I knew my Steve and he knew me. He stood in the doorway in his stocking feet, shrugged his shoulders, and said "I had to touch the water. I had to make it real." I knew exactly what he meant. And besides, sneakers were made to go into the washing machine. I'm glad I could give him that, too.
Some baseball fan out there might know what the Yankees did in 2005 that would warrant the title of this post. They're always winning World Series so why all the excitement in 2005? I think it was just an excuse for him to write about something he loved, American History.
A HUGE Victory for the Yankees - May 24, 2005
To read more about my favorite Gettysburg Heroes, click here: Confederate Commanders - Union Commanders
To read about the most bizarrely named restaurant I’ve ever seen, click here: General Picketts Buffet
When they came back my father delighted in telling how Steve got his new shoes all muddy because he had to go down and touch the water in the creek. Steve's shoes were so muddy that he later had to walk into a convenience store in just his socks. This from a man who never walked barefoot except the one step from his slippers to the shower and back. My father was certain I would throw a conniption fit. But I knew my Steve and he knew me. He stood in the doorway in his stocking feet, shrugged his shoulders, and said "I had to touch the water. I had to make it real." I knew exactly what he meant. And besides, sneakers were made to go into the washing machine. I'm glad I could give him that, too.
Some baseball fan out there might know what the Yankees did in 2005 that would warrant the title of this post. They're always winning World Series so why all the excitement in 2005? I think it was just an excuse for him to write about something he loved, American History.
A HUGE Victory for the Yankees - May 24, 2005
Lest there be any doubt, here at Sportsblog Steves this journalist will give credit where credit is due. I was humbled this weekend, and I intend to write about it here. It was in no uncertain terms a stupendous victory for the Yankees, and I am honored to tell you the tale.
The battle of Gettysburg
The Confederate Army of Northern Virginia was commanded by the great Robert E. Lee. Lee had commanded this army for a little over a year, and was 4-0-1. He had won decisive victories at the battle of Seven days, Chancellorsville, Fredericksburg and Manassas, and fought to a draw at Antietam. He had never been defeated. The Yankees were skippered by General George Gordon Meade. Meade, who along with his favorite steed “Old Baldy” had been in command for three days.
On the first day of the battle of Gettysburg the South entered the town from the north, while the Yankees entered the town from the south. The Confederates had come to the sleepy Pennsylvania village in search of shoes, and were surprised to find John Buford’s Yankee cavalry waiting for them. After several skirmishes northwest of town, the Confederates drove the Yankees back through Gettysburg and into a defensive position on the high ground south and west of the town.
The second and pivotal day of the battle began with Yankee reinforcements arriving to fortify positions along Cemetery ridge. Lee, whose cavalry had not yet arrived, was uncertain of the Yankees strength or position. To the west of Cemetery ridge were two fairly large hills known as “Little Round Top” and “Big Round Top”. Lee deduced that from this position he could have a clear view of the Yankees, so he ordered his subordinate, General James Longstreet to take the hills. However Longstreet took over 5 hours to move his troops into position. By this time the Yankees had deduced the Confederate plan, and positioned several corps into a defensive position atop Little Round Top. Less than 15 minutes after the last Yankee was in place, Longstreet’s troops attacked and a fierce battle ensued. When the smoke cleared, the Yankees had prevailed due in no small part to the bravery and courage of the 20th Maine, which had been places at the far left end of the line and had been ordered to “hold the flank at all costs”.
Lee, who had never truly experienced defeat called the second day a Confederate victory.
On the morning of the third day, Lee decided he would defeat the Yankees once and for all. He ordered Longstreet to prepare a frontal assault on the Yankee center. He would send 12,000 men across a field from the Confederate position at Seminary ridge to smash the Yankees at Cemetery ridge. Longstreet strongly objected, but Lee would have none of it. Lee believed his army could do anything. At 1:00 PM, the attack began. For two hours the Confederates bombarded the Yankees with artillery, in an attempt to “soften the line”, but most of the artillery missed its target. When the Yankee guns, which had been returning the fire grew silent, the ground assault began. It took his troops 19 minutes to cross the field. Within and hour, 6,000 men lay dead or wounded. This infamous attack, forever known as “Picketts Charge”, was the single greatest military blunder in the brilliant career of R.E. Lee. As his troops returned in retreat, Lee was there to meet them. “This is all my fault” he said.
The battle of Gettysburg was the greatest battle ever fought on North American soil. Over 55,000 men were either killed or wounded. Today, the battlefield remains a living memorial to the bravery and valor of those who fought there, both Yankee and Confederate. Statues mark the placement of troops. On Seminary ridge, a statue of Robert E. Lee looks out across the field where Pickett’s charge occurred. From this vantage point you can see the statue of George Gordon Meade in the distance.
I realize that this material is not the typical material you are accustomed to reading at “Sportsblog Steves”. However, I did have the pleasure of visiting Gettysburg this weekend with my father in law and I had a really nice time, and if anyone thinks I’m going to write anything nice about the New York Yankees, you’ve got to be kidding me.
To read more about “Pickett’s Charge” click here: Picketts Charge
The battle of Gettysburg
The Confederate Army of Northern Virginia was commanded by the great Robert E. Lee. Lee had commanded this army for a little over a year, and was 4-0-1. He had won decisive victories at the battle of Seven days, Chancellorsville, Fredericksburg and Manassas, and fought to a draw at Antietam. He had never been defeated. The Yankees were skippered by General George Gordon Meade. Meade, who along with his favorite steed “Old Baldy” had been in command for three days.
On the first day of the battle of Gettysburg the South entered the town from the north, while the Yankees entered the town from the south. The Confederates had come to the sleepy Pennsylvania village in search of shoes, and were surprised to find John Buford’s Yankee cavalry waiting for them. After several skirmishes northwest of town, the Confederates drove the Yankees back through Gettysburg and into a defensive position on the high ground south and west of the town.
The second and pivotal day of the battle began with Yankee reinforcements arriving to fortify positions along Cemetery ridge. Lee, whose cavalry had not yet arrived, was uncertain of the Yankees strength or position. To the west of Cemetery ridge were two fairly large hills known as “Little Round Top” and “Big Round Top”. Lee deduced that from this position he could have a clear view of the Yankees, so he ordered his subordinate, General James Longstreet to take the hills. However Longstreet took over 5 hours to move his troops into position. By this time the Yankees had deduced the Confederate plan, and positioned several corps into a defensive position atop Little Round Top. Less than 15 minutes after the last Yankee was in place, Longstreet’s troops attacked and a fierce battle ensued. When the smoke cleared, the Yankees had prevailed due in no small part to the bravery and courage of the 20th Maine, which had been places at the far left end of the line and had been ordered to “hold the flank at all costs”.
Lee, who had never truly experienced defeat called the second day a Confederate victory.
On the morning of the third day, Lee decided he would defeat the Yankees once and for all. He ordered Longstreet to prepare a frontal assault on the Yankee center. He would send 12,000 men across a field from the Confederate position at Seminary ridge to smash the Yankees at Cemetery ridge. Longstreet strongly objected, but Lee would have none of it. Lee believed his army could do anything. At 1:00 PM, the attack began. For two hours the Confederates bombarded the Yankees with artillery, in an attempt to “soften the line”, but most of the artillery missed its target. When the Yankee guns, which had been returning the fire grew silent, the ground assault began. It took his troops 19 minutes to cross the field. Within and hour, 6,000 men lay dead or wounded. This infamous attack, forever known as “Picketts Charge”, was the single greatest military blunder in the brilliant career of R.E. Lee. As his troops returned in retreat, Lee was there to meet them. “This is all my fault” he said.
The battle of Gettysburg was the greatest battle ever fought on North American soil. Over 55,000 men were either killed or wounded. Today, the battlefield remains a living memorial to the bravery and valor of those who fought there, both Yankee and Confederate. Statues mark the placement of troops. On Seminary ridge, a statue of Robert E. Lee looks out across the field where Pickett’s charge occurred. From this vantage point you can see the statue of George Gordon Meade in the distance.
I realize that this material is not the typical material you are accustomed to reading at “Sportsblog Steves”. However, I did have the pleasure of visiting Gettysburg this weekend with my father in law and I had a really nice time, and if anyone thinks I’m going to write anything nice about the New York Yankees, you’ve got to be kidding me.
To read more about “Pickett’s Charge” click here: Picketts Charge
To read more about my favorite Gettysburg Heroes, click here: Confederate Commanders - Union Commanders
To read about the most bizarrely named restaurant I’ve ever seen, click here: General Picketts Buffet
Monday, May 16, 2011
Back to the Garden
"Maybe your soul mate is the person who forces your soul to grow the most."
Six Feet Under
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
A Lawnmower Named Despair
I haven't been able to incorporate all of Steve's chores into my chore list yet without dropping the ball on something else. The workload of two people now on one person, along with the heaviness of grief, simply means not everything gets done. I like the house to look like me: put together on the outside total chaos on the inside. Thus, I decided I'd get the front yard mowed before calling it a day.
That's when the trouble began.
I've gotten past the place where I bemoan the fact Steve's gone and I have to do something he once did. (I still don't like having to do it.) Past the place of thinking I didn't appreciate enough how much he did or how the work is difficult. (I still say "thank you, baby" in my head each time I do something, for all the times he did it.) Now I'm at a point where I'm trying to keep up with what he did, to hell with what has always resided on my to-do list.
I topped off the gas tank, pushed the mower to the side of the house, and let 'er rip. Ten feet later I glanced beneath the tank, on the deck of the mower, and saw a spreading pool of gasoline.
I have two things I really prefer not to mess with: gas and electricity.
So you can imagine I freaked. Since I couldn't tun it off and yell "STEVE," I turned it off and yelled "SHIT." More than a few times. Pretty loudly, evidently. Cause out the side door of his house, my neighbor came running. There I am, dancing around the mower, wanting desperately to look it over for a fix and yet frantically trying to stay away from the spilled gas next to the ticking engine that could, oh, I dunno, explode and eat my face.
Brandon immediately started looking for the leak, cleaning off the gas, running it for awhile, doing the man things that fixes the man things. I, meanwhile, hunkered down behind the bumper of the car and tried not to cry. By the time he figured out that the gas cap needed the threads cleaned off to make a proper seal and I wouldn't need to buy a new mower, I had given in to the cry. I sat full-out on the lawn sobbing with my face buried in my hands.
During the ten minutes it took for Brandon to look the mower over all I could think was: "How am I gonna keep doing this?" There were no additional or explanatory thoughts behind it because that one question encompassed everything I face in the months and years to come. So I sobbed in front of this man I barely know. I sobbed with no desire to try and lock it down and get myself under control. I cried with no embarrassment and no apologies. I cried until I was done crying.
I always thought that Blanche DuBois in A Streetcar Named Desire was a fool when she said her famous line "I have always depended on the kindness of strangers." Depending on strangers may leave you waiting a very long time and still not getting the things you need. But as I wiped at my eyes and hiccuped out my last sob, Brandon cleared it all up for me: "You don't have to go through this alone."
My lawnmower is fine. The front lawn is mowed. The house is a mess, so am I, but we're both getting better. And maybe, Blanche had it right. Brandon most certainly has it right. Accepting kindness from strangers keeps me from going it alone. It certainly beats the hell outta squatting behind the car fearing a fire that may never arrive.
Thanks, Brandon.
That's when the trouble began.
I've gotten past the place where I bemoan the fact Steve's gone and I have to do something he once did. (I still don't like having to do it.) Past the place of thinking I didn't appreciate enough how much he did or how the work is difficult. (I still say "thank you, baby" in my head each time I do something, for all the times he did it.) Now I'm at a point where I'm trying to keep up with what he did, to hell with what has always resided on my to-do list.
I topped off the gas tank, pushed the mower to the side of the house, and let 'er rip. Ten feet later I glanced beneath the tank, on the deck of the mower, and saw a spreading pool of gasoline.
I have two things I really prefer not to mess with: gas and electricity.
So you can imagine I freaked. Since I couldn't tun it off and yell "STEVE," I turned it off and yelled "SHIT." More than a few times. Pretty loudly, evidently. Cause out the side door of his house, my neighbor came running. There I am, dancing around the mower, wanting desperately to look it over for a fix and yet frantically trying to stay away from the spilled gas next to the ticking engine that could, oh, I dunno, explode and eat my face.
Brandon immediately started looking for the leak, cleaning off the gas, running it for awhile, doing the man things that fixes the man things. I, meanwhile, hunkered down behind the bumper of the car and tried not to cry. By the time he figured out that the gas cap needed the threads cleaned off to make a proper seal and I wouldn't need to buy a new mower, I had given in to the cry. I sat full-out on the lawn sobbing with my face buried in my hands.
During the ten minutes it took for Brandon to look the mower over all I could think was: "How am I gonna keep doing this?" There were no additional or explanatory thoughts behind it because that one question encompassed everything I face in the months and years to come. So I sobbed in front of this man I barely know. I sobbed with no desire to try and lock it down and get myself under control. I cried with no embarrassment and no apologies. I cried until I was done crying.
I always thought that Blanche DuBois in A Streetcar Named Desire was a fool when she said her famous line "I have always depended on the kindness of strangers." Depending on strangers may leave you waiting a very long time and still not getting the things you need. But as I wiped at my eyes and hiccuped out my last sob, Brandon cleared it all up for me: "You don't have to go through this alone."
My lawnmower is fine. The front lawn is mowed. The house is a mess, so am I, but we're both getting better. And maybe, Blanche had it right. Brandon most certainly has it right. Accepting kindness from strangers keeps me from going it alone. It certainly beats the hell outta squatting behind the car fearing a fire that may never arrive.
Thanks, Brandon.
Monday, May 9, 2011
You're Missing - Bruce Springsteen
Coffee cups on the counter, jackets on the chair
Papers on the doorstep, but you're not there
Everything is everything
Everything is everything
But you're missing
Pictures on the nightstand, tv's on in the den
Your house is waiting, your house is waiting
For you to walk in, for you to walk in
But you're missing
You're missing, when I shut out the lights
You're missing, when I close my eyes
You're missing, when I see the sun rise
You're missing
Papers on the doorstep, but you're not there
Everything is everything
Everything is everything
But you're missing
Pictures on the nightstand, tv's on in the den
Your house is waiting, your house is waiting
For you to walk in, for you to walk in
But you're missing
You're missing, when I shut out the lights
You're missing, when I close my eyes
You're missing, when I see the sun rise
You're missing
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Sonnet 30
When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste:
Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,
For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,
And weep afresh love's long since cancell'd woe,
And moan the expense of many a vanish'd sight:
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.
But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restored and sorrows end.
-Shakespeare
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste:
Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,
For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,
And weep afresh love's long since cancell'd woe,
And moan the expense of many a vanish'd sight:
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.
But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restored and sorrows end.
-Shakespeare
Monday, May 2, 2011
Nine Months and Seventeen Days
Osama bin Laden outlived my husband 291 days.
Each morning I get up, drink my orange juice while the coffee brews, then head over to the laptop to see what headlines I can stomach. Today I was smacked in the face with history.
The fall of 2001 had Steve living in New York until he could get a job in Richmond. I would spend a week or two in Queens with him and every two weeks he'd line up interviews and drive here for a three day weekend. We weren't in a big rush, expecting everything to work out in due time. All the major decisions had been made. We'd get married, we'd live in Richmond, we'd be patient while waiting for our future to meet us.
On the morning of September 11th, I ignored the ringing phone to sleep in. I was supposed to have left for New York the night before but put my trip off for twenty-four hours so I could be well rested as I always made the drive at night. I finally crawled out of bed to answer the hammering at my door, a friend who was worried about me and where I might be located.
There were a dozen messages on my machine. My family wanting to know where I was. Wanting to know if Steve and his family was safe. Messages from Steve letting me know again and again that he was safe. Messages and messages. All I wanted was to crawl into Steve's arms. All I wanted was to go to him.
I spent thirty minuets hitting redial trying to get through to Steve at his office in White Plains. I wanted to hear his voice. I needed him to calm me and tell the world was still a safe place. I worried about my future in-laws, my new family, who lived and worked nearby. He hadn't mentioned them in his messages. Whether I was married in or not, I had already accepted the DeRose's as my family.
Evidently, they had accepted me as well. When I finally spoke to Steve he said his mother was fine, she could smell the smoke but was all nestled in the house. She was worried about me, though. She was convinced a plane was going to crash into my house. It took me another half an hour of hitting redial to get a call in to her. She started crying immediately and begging me to get in my car and drive as fast as I could. She had heard a plane was heading to DC and only understood that I lived closer to DC than New York. It took awhile but I managed to convince her I wasn't near enough to DC for a plane to confuse me for the nation's capitol.
Steve wasn't going to be able to head south anytime soon. We decided the best place for him was with his family, his cousin, in Westchester. He wouldn't come to Richmond until he could stop in and check on his mother, housebound in Queens. I didn't sleep again until he was by my side, anxious and nervous as I was. I had to wait another thirty-six hours.
September 11th was the day Steve and I realized we could no longer be patient about our future together. It's when we realized that our very lives belonged to other and we couldn't be apart. After that, we were never separated for longer than five days at a time. It's when I knew, by my depth of worry for his family, that I'd taken the DeRose's into my life and heart. It's when I saw that they had done the same of me. September 11th was a day of fear and catastrophe but also a day of love and inclusion. It was the day we learned our families had already expanded to include each other.
While everyone has their own September 11th stories, mine was the start of my married life, my supposed to be happily-ever-after life. Today feels like the conclusion of the 9-11 story. Only there is no full circle for me. The person I shared that chaotic time with is gone. And I'm left to write my own ending.
Each morning I get up, drink my orange juice while the coffee brews, then head over to the laptop to see what headlines I can stomach. Today I was smacked in the face with history.
The fall of 2001 had Steve living in New York until he could get a job in Richmond. I would spend a week or two in Queens with him and every two weeks he'd line up interviews and drive here for a three day weekend. We weren't in a big rush, expecting everything to work out in due time. All the major decisions had been made. We'd get married, we'd live in Richmond, we'd be patient while waiting for our future to meet us.
On the morning of September 11th, I ignored the ringing phone to sleep in. I was supposed to have left for New York the night before but put my trip off for twenty-four hours so I could be well rested as I always made the drive at night. I finally crawled out of bed to answer the hammering at my door, a friend who was worried about me and where I might be located.
There were a dozen messages on my machine. My family wanting to know where I was. Wanting to know if Steve and his family was safe. Messages from Steve letting me know again and again that he was safe. Messages and messages. All I wanted was to crawl into Steve's arms. All I wanted was to go to him.
I spent thirty minuets hitting redial trying to get through to Steve at his office in White Plains. I wanted to hear his voice. I needed him to calm me and tell the world was still a safe place. I worried about my future in-laws, my new family, who lived and worked nearby. He hadn't mentioned them in his messages. Whether I was married in or not, I had already accepted the DeRose's as my family.
Evidently, they had accepted me as well. When I finally spoke to Steve he said his mother was fine, she could smell the smoke but was all nestled in the house. She was worried about me, though. She was convinced a plane was going to crash into my house. It took me another half an hour of hitting redial to get a call in to her. She started crying immediately and begging me to get in my car and drive as fast as I could. She had heard a plane was heading to DC and only understood that I lived closer to DC than New York. It took awhile but I managed to convince her I wasn't near enough to DC for a plane to confuse me for the nation's capitol.
Steve wasn't going to be able to head south anytime soon. We decided the best place for him was with his family, his cousin, in Westchester. He wouldn't come to Richmond until he could stop in and check on his mother, housebound in Queens. I didn't sleep again until he was by my side, anxious and nervous as I was. I had to wait another thirty-six hours.
September 11th was the day Steve and I realized we could no longer be patient about our future together. It's when we realized that our very lives belonged to other and we couldn't be apart. After that, we were never separated for longer than five days at a time. It's when I knew, by my depth of worry for his family, that I'd taken the DeRose's into my life and heart. It's when I saw that they had done the same of me. September 11th was a day of fear and catastrophe but also a day of love and inclusion. It was the day we learned our families had already expanded to include each other.
While everyone has their own September 11th stories, mine was the start of my married life, my supposed to be happily-ever-after life. Today feels like the conclusion of the 9-11 story. Only there is no full circle for me. The person I shared that chaotic time with is gone. And I'm left to write my own ending.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Wicked
"...Do you even believe in other worlds?"Wicked - Gregory Maguire
"I find it a great effort to believe in this one," said Sarima, "yet it seems to be here, so why should I trust my skepticism about other worlds? Don't you believe?"
"I tried to, as a child," said Elphie. "I made an effort. The mothy, gormless, indistinct sunrise of salvation world - the Other Land - I couldn't get it, I couldn't focus. Now I just think it's our own lives that are hidden from us. The mystery - who is that person in the mirror - that's shocking and unfathomable enough for me."
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