But I do miss him...

I had a dream about my brother Scott last night...

The first one in a LONG time...
We were all waiting at the airport for him,,
all his good, and best friends, my parents,,
everybody...

We were all talking about how long it had been since we had seen him,
and I let everybody know
I was getting the first hug,,
I didn't care....
He was getting home from 'the war'...
presumably Iraq...

And then several other military people came out of the gate,,,
and then there he was....
and he was old...
I don't mean ancient,,
but old like I am now,
just not 21 anymore...

He looked so tired,
bags under his eyes,
he was so thin,
but it was him, no doubt,
not one of those
"It was him but didn't look like him" dreams...

He had this look of releif on his face,,
but at the same time his eyes looked as though he had seen things,
things he couldn't begin to explain...
I remember have a fleeting flash of concern...

And then I got my hug,,,
I just held on, and so did he....
Finally I let the rest of the come up and great him,,
in some way we were all really nervous....
And as I stood next to him, while everyone greeted him...

I was looking at him,,
and thinking how good it was to see him,,
but then I was thinking
how glad I was that he was gone,,
because I knew

he would never have to have gone through what 'this Scott' went through...
that he would never look as old as this Scott
and then I woke up...

I wasn't sad...
I was relieved,
relieved that we would never have to wait like all those families do,,,
relieved that Scott would never have to endure what our military are now enduring,,,
relieved that that he would never have to look so frail and tired.... and old : )

But I do miss him...

I found the full Oprah episode from 10/07/09 which highlights Stephanie Nielson's story... Check it out HERE .... Go to minute 21:00

and...

Today I was the mower...

(see below for understanding)

Ducks in a Tree...

So I continue to be surprised by the number of things I find surprising...

I'm rushing, as usual, yesterday morning, because I am past my designated departure time for work. Run down to the car, slam it into reverse, navigate around the landscapers in the parking lot... They're trimming, cutting and driving their huge mowers around like crazy people.

I can't help but notice the ducks scurrying around, dodging the mowers; it looked like they were cussing over their shoulders at them as they ran away (the ducks were cussing, not the men). After negotiating the parking lot, I pull out, get to the stop sign that is still technically in 'the community', look both ways,,, and something catches my eye...

It's the smart ones...

Up on a branch, about 8 feet from the ground,

in a tree that looks as though it was created for just this very moment,

are about 5 ducks...

These aren't small mallard ducks,,,

these are those huge ducks, that look as though they have survived

some sort of nuclear disaster.

You know the kind, they always look pissed off,

the feathers on the heads are usually standing on end like an angry dog...

they have red wart like things all over their face,

and are in general speckled from head to toe

(do ducks have toes?).

No pattern to the feathers, just mish-mash....

But there they were...

Preening themselves... looking as calm as can be,,,

as their cohorts scurried around

afraid they were about to be eaten by a mower...

At 41, I have to say, I don't think I've ever seen a duck in a tree,,,

and I grew up around a lake, so that's saying something...

As I pulled away (again forgetting to snap a pic)

I couldn't help but think how nice it would be

if my day turned out to be more like

a 'Duck in a tree'

instead of the alternative...

I've had many days lately

where I've felt

like I had a huge industrial mower chasing me...

Yesterday... not so good...

Today...

I was a Duck in a Tree...