Sitting on the front porch with a cup of coffee watching the sun rise as you listen to the stillness of the morning is always a special time...
It's that time of year, it's time to go hunting! This post from Brigid captured the 'high' of bird hunting, both literally and figuratively.
Hearing only the ruffles and flourishes of the creek as it runs down it's course, the birds chirping as the first light of morning turns the low clouds pink against the night sky, then the reds and orange colors start to stand out and ever so slowly the blues and greens of the hill side and background fill in...
The dog snuffling up under your hand, looking for a handout and the smell of bacon flying.
It doesn't get much better than that...
And then reality intrudes in the form of the first screaming baby of the morning...
Reminding me I'm really sitting on the hotel balcony, drinking lousy hotel coffee, listening to the fountain by the pool. And the birds, well they're fighting over the Nutrigrain bar one of the little rats with wings stole off the table when I sat it down...
And I don't have a dog anymore because of my travel schedule...
sigh...
I do the three S's, and head over to the Hale Koa for a quick breakfast. They have a good (and cheap) buffet for the military folks. It's interesting that at 0630 in the morning the place is full! Obviously even on vacation military folks get up early!
I'm enjoying a MUCH better cup of coffee as the hostess seats a family next to me- It's a young Marine who has lost both legs, and has just been fitted with new prosthetics. His wife is hovering anxiously, as his Mother and Dad look on with a mixture of pride and pain in their faces...
They are semi-arguing about whether he should be trying to walk or use the wheelchair, and he is adamant that by God he WILL walk into and out of the restaurant...
I go up and go through the line, and decide what the heck, an omelet is MUCH better than scrambled; I go off and get some fruit and come back to find the Marine standing balanced on his new legs and canes. I asked him how long, he tells me three weeks, and he's having problems re-establishing his balance points. I joke with him about not drinking too many beers, and he grins and tells me it's two beers and he falls over...
At that point, he smiles and says there ain't no point in getting back up, so a couple more don't hurt. He said the real frustration was his wife and family wanting to baby him, and all he wants is to get back in shape and get back to his unit.
His wife comes over and picks up his omelet and finishes filling his plate, as he maneuvers back to his table, and it gets quiet as everybody digs into the food.
I'm deep in thought as to what has to be accomplished, and really not paying attention until I realize all of the men and some of the wives are stopping by the Marines table on the way out, sometimes a handshake, sometimes a quiet word, sometimes just a pat of the shoulder...
Tears are streaming down his wife's face, and his mother's too. His dad is trying not to tear up and the Marine is just stunned. I get up to leave and I wish him the best, thank him and leave. I ask at the cashier for their bill, intending to buy them breakfast, only to find out it was already done and the cashier says everybody is asking to pay...
Things like this remind me that when it's all said and done, the military DOES take care of it's own, both officially and unofficially...
The military is really a multi-generational family, accepting and supporting the kids who are on the front lines today, regardless of branch or anything else; unlike those who pay lip service when the cameras are on, and do their damnest to cut the funding as soon as the cameras go off...
Sigh...
