Living on Iraq Time

I was going to write about our Memorial Day barbecue with friends but then I got this email from Tracy (Brandi's sis) and it changed my thoughts. Its long but worth the read. I am soooooooo grateful for the lives that have been given for my freedom. I don't agree all the time on why things are the way they are but I will always support the people of the military and their families.
EVERY evening at 10, beeps emanate from the top drawer of my dresser. The sound comes from a watch that has resided there for just over three years. The 20 beeps signify that another day is dawning in Iraq. The watch belonged to my son, Specialist Martin Kondor, who was killed in action with the Army on the morning of April 29, 2004, in the city of Baquba, north of Baghdad. Martin was 20 years old.Since his death, three Memorial Days have come and gone, and while most people think of Memorial Day as just a day off from work, an occasion for a backyard cookout or a chance to score a good deal at a spectacular sale, for families like mine, Memorial Day has a more somber meaning. For us, the day is a further reminder that our loved one is gone forever.It’s not that we need another reminder. Not a day goes by that we don’t think of Martin. My wife and I each carry one of his dog tags with us at all times. His picture hangs on the living room wall with those of his two brothers, and his bedroom has been left essentially as it was when he was alive. Two of the last packages we sent to him were returned after his death, and they’ve sat unopened in a corner of the room for the last three years. For most Americans, when the morning alarm wakes us up, we step out of bed to begin our daily ritual. As we jump in the car, most of us don’t think twice about our commute to work, and if we are concerned at all, it’s not for our safety; rather, we’re worried that there might be a traffic jam that will make us late and prevent us from stopping for a quick cup of coffee. But when Martin’s watch beeped every morning, it signaled the start of a day much different from what most of us are used to. Martin and his fellow soldiers had all volunteered to go to Iraq as members of a personal security detachment. Their sole mission was to safeguard the life of a brigade commander. And their daily commute from their home base to Baquba, where the commander would meet with city officials and tribal leaders, was often interrupted by rifle fire, rocket-propelled grenades and roadside bombs. Martin — like many combat soldiers who have gone before and come after him, including his older brother, Trevor, who served with the 82nd Airborne — didn’t tell us much about what he was doing. He didn’t want us to worry. We learned most of what we now know about the last three months of his life from his buddies and his commanders. My first indication of the nature of his mission and the situation he and the others were facing came in a satellite phone call Martin made to me after his team had survived a particularly nasty ambush. He described a horrific scene in which the convoy was taking fire from both sides of the road, with bullets and rocket-propelled grenades whizzing by his head from every direction. He said he just kept firing at every enemy target he could see; and when the convoy finally escaped the insurgents’ trap, he could hardly believe he and his team members had survived.Exactly 20 days after I received that phone call from Martin, two grim-faced soldiers arrived at our door to tell us that Martin had been killed. It was an “improvised explosive device,” they said. An assassination attempt on the colonel. As the gunner on a Humvee, Martin was completely exposed to the blast. Our only solace lay in the realization that Martin probably never had time to hear the blast that killed him, let alone feel it. Others are not always so lucky. His buddies took his death pretty hard. A soldier from Martin’s company escorted his remains from Iraq to Germany, and one of his former platoon sergeants escorted Martin’s flag-draped coffin on the flight from Germany to the United States. That sergeant and another who had helped train Martin assisted with the funeral arrangements and brought messages from Martin’s comrades and commanders in Iraq. Those still in the fight wanted us to know how much they respected and admired our son. Indeed, some of them got tattoos of Martin’s name or likeness, as did Martin’s younger brother, Joe. At Martin’s home base in Iraq, the colonel ordered that a school for soldiers on post be named the Kondor Education Center, in Martin’s memory. Here at home, tokens of remembrance from Martin’s friends and former high school classmates still pile up at his gravesite. At his elementary school, his teachers planted a tree and placed a stone marker in front of the school. The inscription on the marker reads: “In memory of Army Specialist Martin Kondor, an American patriot.” A scholarship fund was created at his high school, from which an annual award is given to a graduating senior who exhibits qualities of leadership and patriotism. And the county Veterans Administration office commissioned a bronze plaque to memorialize Martin and all the other local men and women who have died in Iraq and Afghanistan. The plaque joins the others, which date back to World War I, on the portico of the county courthouse. As Martin’s buddies have completed their tours in Iraq, several of them have made the journey here to his hometown to pay their respects to us and to Martin. Tears always well up in my eyes as I watch each of them salute his gravesite. Others have written letters or e-mail messages, telephoned or sent packages or photos. Last month, on April 29, the third anniversary of Martin’s death, we received an e-mail message from the man whose life our son had sworn to safeguard. He’s now a brigadier general, stationed in Baghdad this time on his second tour in Iraq. In his message, the general said: “None of us who served with your son will ever forget the day that he passed away. We will never forget him or his service to our nation. It was an honor to serve with your son.”As I read those words, I realized that the greatest memorial of all for a fallen soldier lies not in the gravestones, bronze plaques or markers that display his name, but rather in the memories of his family and friends, and in the respect and admiration of his fellow soldiers and countrymen. And so before heading out to the big sale or the opening of the town pool or the neighbors’ backyard barbecue, take some time to attend a local Memorial Day ceremony. Do this not just to glance over the gravestones or the plaques or the markers that list the fallen soldiers’ names, but out of respect for the friends, family members and comrades they leave behind — some of whom have died or are still alive or have yet to confront their fate. Someday, Martin’s watch will fall silent, and I will no longer have my daily reminder of the new day dawning in Iraq. But his mother and I, his brothers, his friends and the soldiers who served with him will always have our memories of who he was and what he did for his country. And we will gladly tell his story. Isn’t that the purpose of Memorial Day?

I Figured it out!..this is for you Kimi

I LOVE CRAIGSLIST!

Yes yes I know this has already been talked about but I need to take a few moments and share what joy I find in and on this website. I really have only known about this site for 6 months. And I am certainly glad that I realized great things like this exist. I have bought so many wonderful things. My newest find I just have to share! I have been wanting to find a cute bedroom set for Leah for awhile and find that I did! I bought it from a lady that refinishes furniture for fun and the bed frame and dresser cost me 100$. I love it so. It is pieces that will last as long as Leah lives with us and Paul likes it cause it is a twin bed so boys cant hang out on it. (Not that we will ever let boys in her room..;) ) The pictures aren't the best but you get the point. I found a mattress for 10$ and then found a box spring for free..all courtesy of craigslist.

She loves it. So does Asher. I feel a little bad cause usually Leah gets all the nice things and Asher gets the hand me downs but I guess that how it goes in the food chain of siblings.

I mostly do my craigslist shopping when Paul is out to sea....that way I can just send him an email and casually state "I got this today" without the glare. I am all about a bargain as most of you are. Someday my house will be filled with great items.......all at a great price. For now one mans junk is certainly my treasure!!!!!

We live in the biggest military area there is so people are constantly moving in and out and wanting to get rid of things. I love it!

LOST!!!!

I am lost. Lost with Lost. This show is completely crazy! I would call myself a faithful fan of the show hardly missing an episode except when I am just too tired to stay up because I am to cheap to pay for TiVo and it comes on at 10:00 pm here! So Thursday morning I am a walking zombie.
Why do I watch it? It is so weird. And I am a chicken. Most of the time I am alone watching it because Paul is gone or asleep and I am always freaked out by the end of it. Especially last nights show! What was that? What the heck is going on? I used to think I could predict what would happen but not anymore. I am suckered into it now. Props to the makers of Lost because this show keeps me intrigued for sure.
Any thoughts?.....

Why am I up?

Hello all,

Its Sunday evening and I am in my snugly purple robe (that Paul hates cause I look to grandma-y in so I where the heck out of it when he is gone) sitting on the couch watching "The Amazing Race". My kids are asleep. Well, Asher is....I love when they haven't figured a way out of the crib and go to sleep without a fuss.

Leah dear is upstairs watching her "movie of the month" Peter Pan. I am hoping she just falls asleep while watching but down deep I know that ain't happening! Why do 2 year olds insist on testing my patience in everything of life? She used to be the champion of sleepers until the bink went out the door and every single night is a hassle. I end up just doing the wrong thing and letting her come in bed with me. Not good. I know this. But when Paul is gone I actually like having her in bed with me. So I figure next year we will work on sleeping cause Paul will be home for good. Ah ya!

We had a good day at church (nursery). I don't even attempt sacrament when Paul is gone and I am in nursery for the 2 hours left since I have rugrats who well are RUGRATS!! People think I am the nursery leader and sometimes I pretend to be...

But today I attempted a great feat.... I, by myself took 4 toddlers to church....yep! Ages 3-2-2-and 1. My sweet neighbor needed a break so I took her son and also another little friend with us. It actually went pretty well. I like the people in this ward. Or at least the toddlers of the ward since that is all I see.

We ate a great dinner of crock pot pork chops and wild rice. And for dessert... a bowl full of M&Ms left over from valentines. pink and stale..yum.

I had a little good news, Paul's ship might come home for a few days this weekend. I love when they say they "might" come home cause usually it happens. We are definitely looking forward to next month when we get leave for a few weeks and are going to Michigan to visit family.

I cant wait to see new parts of the country and my cute nephews with teeth less grins.

So it was our 6 year anniversary yesterday. My day was quite romantic consisting of watching 5 neighbors and friends and then going to the grocery store. I did make quesadilla's and drank a few pina coladas in honor of Cinco De Mayo. I still remember our pretty much ghetto reception at the church and then going outside to the Cinco De Mayo celebration at the park. Silly. I love my husband and have had the BEST 6 years! Besos para Paul.

So if you make it to the end of this post then I have a tip, this is random but I just remembered because its smoking in my kitchen:

To make your house smell good, add a little fabric softener to water in a saucepan and warm it on your burner on low. wha lah! Smell of a clean house. But if you let the water run out it will smoke.....and stink...just like my house stinks.

Okay, I best be going to bed..... Buenos noches!

Is it bad that......

.... I went to McDonald's for breakfast this morning and got a bacon egg and cheese bagel?

.... With a diet coke?

.... I watched t.v. all morning with my kids?

.... I made my kids take an early nap so I could sleep too?

.... I made a pan of Crystals peanut butter candy and have eaten half the pan?

....Leah has eaten Cheerios for breakfast and lunch....and probably dinner?

....Asher is still not fully dressed?

.... I keep giving my kids suckers so they wont complain?

....It is 3:05 in the afternoon and I haven't showered and am still in my p.j.'s?

....I was supposed to go walking this morning but decided not to?

....My floors need to be mopped but I am pretending not to notice?

....I just really don't care today?

In Jaesi's defense, it is actually a rather ugly day outside. cold and rainy and muddy and I have no husband to impress with a clean house and freshly baked bread and perfect attire since he is gone for who knows how long!