Ring, ring!

If the cliche wasn't so true, I wouldn't use it but where has the time gone? Nate is now ring shopping!

Nate and Lu in El Salvador

If your heart skipped a beat, and you're like "Wha?????"settle down there! If you imagined our OS searching for a shiny bauble for a Salvadorena beauty, I'm sorry to disappoint you. We're not there yet.

Nate is ring shopping for himself and deciding about the type of ring he wants as a 2012 graduate of the United States Military Academy.


During an impromptu visit home (which aside from Ike's flu, made it the best MLK weekend I've ever had!) Nate showed us the brochure featuring his ring options. What a huge accomplishment for our OS to be on the other side of the 48 month experience known as West Point. I sat beside him on Sunday pondering that the eager, determined teenager who entered West Point on that most notable day is now a competent, strong leader and man.

R-Day - June 2008, my boy walked by us in the parade and oh how I wanted to run and grab him take him away from all these people yelling!  Nate had made his mind up, he was going to West Point and I couldn't stand in the way. 

I like this figurative place as a WP mom.  You see, I'm strategically positioned to be content about all that he has done while not giving too much worry to what he's going to do AFTER graduation. I can celebrate the cool stuff like my OS getting a ring and block out the "other things" like when and where he will be deployed. Not.going.there.


Let's just concentrate on jewelry, shall we?

What makes a West Point ring especially significant is the symbolism literally melted in the ring. Following the death of a West Point grad, some families, upon the bequest of the departed grad or simply to pass on tradition, donate the ring back to West Point. It's called the Ring Memorial Program. The ring is then melted and the shavings are used to help create a new ring. When West Point grads receives their ring, they have a part of the men and women of the Long Gray Line with them.

Another impressive point about a West Point ring is that each class has a slogan. During Beast, the new cadets, not yet lowly plebes of the class of 2012, all selected a class slogan and a drawing which best represented their collective spirit. This is the slogan for the class of 2012. When we heard about the slogan they picked, knowing Nate, it sounded so fitting for our OS. We just loved it.

The design of the 2012 crest features two swords symbolizing the graduates going from a cadet to an officer. I will stuff my purse with Kleenex as I see this ring on my boy's finger. Partially because it will be no small feat to get a ring over his  gi-normous knuckle and also because I will be bursting with pride.

March back from Buckner where Beast was held - a momentous event!

Next year, the Hubs and I will attend the Ring Weekend. Nate will be on the receiving end of Ring Poop which thankfully has nothing to do with #2! I will buy an expensive new dress and possibly several new outfits for the event. The Hubs and I are attending Financial Peace University so I guess I'll need to start saving up right now because this girl is gonna bring it! ;)


I won't be wearing anything like this.

Personally I like matching shoes

But perhaps something like this? Hmmm...

This might be a little over the top but then again, maybe not!

As the mama of three sons, it's rare for me to talk bling in this household so I'm going to cherish this moment and not hurry to the next!

I love a parade!

It has been a long-standing joke in my house that one day before I die, I want a parade for my birthday. So far it hasn't happened and considering my birthday is in January and I don't live in Hawaii, the chances are slim to none that this will ever happen. 

But since becoming a mama of a Soldier, specifically the mother of a son at the United States Military Academy, I have seen more parades than I ever imagined. And I like it. I like it a lot. (said again in my best Jim Carey from Dumb and Dumber voice.) Yes, this is the second time I've recently used this quote in a post. 

So if I can't have a parade on my birthday, I'll settle for the next best thing...seeing my son in a parade. That is cool. Really, really cool. 

During Plebe Parent Weekend (PPW), our OS was in a parade which featured only plebes. You would have never known that these were the same young men and women who arrived at R-Day with that deer in the headlights look, trying to maintain composure as they were whisked away to places and experiences unknown and nearly unbearable. For most plebes, including our OS, these young men and women were relatively new to the parade thing prior to R-Day. But they now appear to be seasoned parade professionals. According to my OS, much to his dismay, they have devoted countless hours spent marching and executing each aspect of the parade. I know everyone in the filled to capacity crowd appreciated their hard work for it made for a very impressive spectacle.

First there was the drill team. My mouth gaped open as I wat- ched the trenchant skill of these young men. I was held in thrall as they effortlessly tossed the rifles back and forth to each other. I was dumbfounded as they performed an entire routine, not forgetting a thing, flipping the rifles in mid-air, grabbing them at varied places on the rifle and without missing a beat. Just when I thought their program was done and I was getting ready to erupt in applause, they'd press on and do another five 

minutes. I can only imagine the hours they poured into this flawless execution. 

Once they finished, I began to watch for my own VIP. My son was a Platoon Leader for his company and Nate was excited because he had a saber for the parade. I peered through the crowd and was surprised to see that indeed our OS marched with a very manly saber by his side but other stuff as well. 

Nate strode out into the field with his company also wearing a very large hat with really big feathers and he was wearing a red sash. If you are not a West Point person, you might be thinking big whoop, a red sash. You might even conjure up thoughts of RuPaul, but friends, shame on you! You would be totally wrong. It's not that kind of sash, y'all! 

Here he was during PPW, out on The Plain, and Nate was wearing the same red sash which previously evoked terror and misery to the new cadets trying to complete Beast in the summer.

The dreaded red sash was an emblem of dread and intimidation until I saw it draped around MY boy's uniform. From afar, the red sash and I had a healing, bonding moment, I guess you could say.

I felt pride and love overwhelm me and I know I was not alone. It was palpable as each person in the crowd peered to see their beloved child. It didn't matter if your kid was right up front easy to spot or somewhere hidden in the middle, seeing 1000 Soldiers march in unison, it felt like we had collectively birthed each one of them.  A universal feeling of delight and appreciation warmed the cool morning air. So although my dreams of having a birthday parade are far-fetched, I have no right to complain on that day when I meet Jesus face to face. He has given me, as usual something above and beyond my wildest dreams. 

I LOVE A PARADE!

Different Modes of Transportation

Our family is experiencing new forms of transportation we never imagined. A year ago, we were a boring suburban bi-ped, mini-van/car/truck driving family. That has changed within a week. It is a contrast of worlds, with my son away at West Point and us here at home. Life often holds a lot of irony.  

Here are a few examples...

 

On Monday my oldest OS will be traveling by a Blackhawk helicopter to a new training site for Cadet Basic Training. A Blackhawk Helicopter travels up to 221 mph. This is part of the final leg of Beast. I know my boy is going to be excited about having this experience even if it makes his mama nervous, very nervous. 

On the other hand, I'm getting around differently. A non-electric wheelchair can travel about 3.7 mph. How do I know? I googled it. Since Saturday, thanks to a friend, I am traveling regularly by wheelchair when I am downstairs or out of my house. This might not mean much to you but until Saturday I'd been stuck at home. I hadn't been outside since going to the doctor to learn I had a broken foot. On Saturday I traveled to Borders in a wheelchair! FREEDOM!  I was probably as excited to be among the public as Nate will be getting a panoramic view of West Point and its environs. 

Then on Tuesday I will hopefully receive my Rolleraid, which is the BEST Orthopedic Leg Support Scooter around. It will have a basket and a water bottle holder! Wahoo! Who knew that a week ago something like this would seriously make me happy? I intend on being as happy as these two folks pictured in their advertising. Wee! I hope to be whizzing around topping 5 mph in no time at all. 

 

Nathan is sleeping with a rifle by his side. It's not good if he can't find his rifle so he always keeps it close on the field. 

I'm sleeping with my crutches just an arm's length away. It's not good if I don't have my crutches. That's when I resort to hopping, crawling or scooting. 

My oldest OS has thrown a grenade.

My middle OS threw a football and will see the hand specialist on Monday. He might have torn two ligaments on his thumb. 

How bizarre!

R-Day, 60 seconds

"You have 60 seconds to say your farewells," a member of the cadre announced as we all stood and prepared for our goodbyes. This petite framed cadet whom I really wanted to hate was just doing her job and I don't envy her of having the task of separating parent and family from child. It was like every sentence she was saying felt like a Peanuts cartoon where Snoopy just hears, "blah, blah, blah, blah." Of course all of us knew it was coming, the mood was solemn as we all filed in and took our seats. I wasn't the only weepy mom in the bunch so I felt a kindred spirit among us. There was such a feeling of love and pride, but we all entered into some private, intimate place in our hearts and hugged our babies for the final time for a long while like we were the only ones in the place. Nate grabbed his meager belongings and confidently strode to the front of the auditorium and never looked back. That was a good thing because if I had seen his face one more time, I would have taken it as a sign to rush forward to get him. I know he is divinely placed where the Lord wants him to be and this is perhaps the most unselfish thing I have ever done as a mother. We prayed and prayed for the Lord to put him where he was supposed to go. I cannot second guess my Heavenly Father. Saying goodbye and letting my beloved child set forth into a new life, I am filled with tears and pride, both never ending.

I remember child birth being very painful but this is really rough. I was in labor for four hours, and it hurt like crud and this process is much longer. West Point is such an austere and noble place, I am humbled to have a son who is in the class of 2012 and have the hat, t-shirt and matching handbag to prove it. I shall be wearing black, gold and gray for a really long time. There is a dignity and a respect I don't recall seeing at other college campuses we visited. This is the right place for my son and I am thankful to have met a lot of nice guys Nathan will soon be calling friends. Take a look and click here at this link to see what his first day was like. OY!

We are all entering a new phase in our lives. After saying our farewells, there were two floors of vendors and organizations to greet us. Nearly ever booth had a box of Kleenex. It was reassuring to see that in the midst of all this decorum and granite, they had chiseled out a lot of compassion and concern.

We arrive home tomorrow and I do laundry which will include some of Nathan's dirty clothes. It will be the saddest load of laundry I have ever done in my life thus far. I found the toe nail clippers he used before we dropped him off at West Point. They were in the hotel bathroom and yep, I cried.

Motherhood is not for the faint of heart. I am the mama of a soldier. I am the PROUD mama of a soldier. Go Army, Beat Navy, Huah!

Psalm 63:7 & 8
For you have been my help, and in the shadow of Your wings I sing for joy. My soul clings to You; Your right hand upholds me.