Some Never Came Home

 

 

I am one of the lucky ones. My dad came home.

My father served in the subservice of the United States Navy for 28 years. For 28 years I watched my dad leave for extended duty. Birthdays, Christmases and countless plays, awards and milestones ticked by without the security of his presence. When he came home, he always looked a bit different. He seemed foreign. But the look in his eyes was always one of joy and love and grace. Oh how I would love to see my father come home, bearing gifts from around the world and stories that kept my imagination fed.

I remember after one long deployment my dad came home 30 pounds lighter. At first, I had no idea who this scrawny man was at our door. But those eyes. They were my daddy's eyes. As a child, there was nothing to understand. It just was the way it was. Daddy had a job to do and his job was to keep our Country safe. I never resented his absence in my life. I simply looked forward to his return.

Similarly, I had no idea what he was sacrificing. My dad served during Vietnam and the Cold War. An estimated 58,220 Americans died in Vietnam. I wonder how many of them were daddies. As deadly as the Vietnam War was, The Cold War was a game of cat and mouse fought on the open ocean, as soviet warships depth-charged American submarines. During this time, as American subs sank into the ocean's vast abyss, I was clueless. I had no idea how much danger my father was in.

My father joined the United States Navy as a submariner in 1958 at the age of 19. He served 28 years and retired when I was 16 years old. My husband served in the United States Navy as a submariner from 1988 to 2012. As an adult I raised my own family with the absence of my husband, leaving for long deployments for a singular mission: to protect the life and freedom we take for granted every day. I thank them both for their service and dedication to their family and Country. Both my father and my husband served and retired. They came home. How blessed I am that they came home.

Since the inception of our great Country, 1,319,943 million American's never came home. They left their mothers, fathers, siblings, wives and children behind. They stepped out from the security of home into harms way to keep America free. This is dedicated to every man, woman, son, daughter, mother, father, brother and sister who paid the ultimate price. Thank you for your service. May you, resting in eternal peace, have finally found your way home.

For the Music Makers, the Dreamers of Dreams

 

Sometimes the world regards dreamers as aimless wanderers, fleeting from one thing to the next in search of some joyful, yet nonexistent utopia. These people are not dreamers, the world that is. They don't understand the plight. And that's alright because we are all born with unique gifts and talents. We are all destined to fulfill a specific purpose. With that said, this is a call to action to the dreamers who are still dreaming.

For those dreamers among us, it is excruciating; a never ending pursuit of something that is always dangling just beyond our reach. It is a daunting task to live up to our own dreams. We are each created to touch the world in our own unique way. We are musicians, writers, artists and entrepreneurs. We were born with an innate sense of necessity to accomplish something profound. Step by step, day by day, year by year, from the moment of our earliest cognitive memory we have felt the urgency to be what we were designed to be. And, for those of you, like me, who are still dreaming it is time to wake up.

By wake up I do not mean abandon the dream. The dream is who you are. You can no sooner abandon your self than you can refuse the air that fuels your body. By wake up I mean, set in motion the steps necessary to fulfill your destiny. Stop living that life that is manufactured. That thing that you do because everyone counseled you to take the safe path. Start creating again. Start dreaming again. Return to yourself. Return to your passions. Return to who you were destined to be. After all, there is only one YOU! There is only one person that holds the gifts and the passions that you do.

Consider for a moment your mentors, the biggest inspirations on your life. Who are they? Think of their faces. Truly see what they have given to this world and to you. Now consider what the world would look like without them. Consider what the world would look like if they accepted defeat and took the responsible, safe path. Imagine, if you will, yourself without their influence on your life.

Imagine a world without Picasso, Monet or Escher. What would today's music sound like without the influence of the Beatles, Jimi Hendrix or James Brown? Would Matthew McConaughey have made it to the big screen if it weren't for Jim Morrison's influence on his Dazed and Confused audition? Life is a series of domino effects brought on by the inspiration of those who touch our every day lives.

Now, let me pose a question. What if you were destined to influence others? What if the aspirations of future generations hinged on your mark upon this world? What if future generations miss their destiny because you have chosen not to share your gift with the world?

For all the dreamers among us, myself included, wake up and stay true to your art. Stand up and be accountable for the gifts you have been given. As Gene Wilder so eloquently said, for "We are music makers. We are the dreamer of dreams."