Portraits of Honour - Remembering our Fallen Troops

I received a call on Thursday night from a friend, Henk, who is active in the Kinsman Club (now called Kin Canada).  He invited me to come out with the club on Saturday to take a road trip to meet Dave Sopha.  This was a trip that would also include troops from the Combat Engineer Regiment (CER) from St. Thomas.  The troops were selected to catch an early glimpse of the Portraits of Honour, a 50’ by 10’ mural commemorating fallen Canadian soldiers in Afghanistan.

I had not heard of Dave Sopha, but the project sounded unique, and likely it would be an emotional experience.  I decided to go along, and brought my son with me.  Jordan, my son, is a Sapper in the Royal Canadian Army Cadets.  I felt this would be a chance for him to gain some insight into the reality of the lives lost in battle.  He didn’t want to go at first.  He wanted to stay at home instead.  Eventually, it wasn’t a choice, he was coming.

Like many Canadians, Cambridge artist Dave Sopha watched news reports of the Canadian soldiers killed in Afghanistan.   Repeatedly facing heartbreak at the loss of troops, he was emotionally compelled to create a lasting memory for Canadians across the nation.  Portraits of Honour is the result.

As a national service project of Kin Canada, Zone K Deputy Governor Brad Bedford, contacted the Commanding Officer at the CER to offer a once in a lifetime opportunity; to meet the artist and view the work before it begins it’s national tour in June.  Brad explained that the project has the “full and complete support of the Canadian military.”  To date, Kin have donated $3000 to assist with the development of the project.

W.O. MacDonald stands with CER

When we arrived at the National Kin Canada Headquarters, all the visitors filed in small groups into an elevator that took us to the lower level that has been transformed into the artist’s studio as he works towards the completion of the mural.  Dave explained that each face on the mural takes approximately 80 hours of work.  He starts with their eyes, taking time to get them right, then moves on.  There are at least seven layers of painting to each face.  After spending so much time, staring into their eyes day after day, he knows them.  He can see their life in their eyes.  He is their best friend.

Anyone questioning the value of such a project need only to speak to Warrant Officer Reginald MacDonald.   He has served tours in Afghanistan in 2004 and 2008-09 explaining that just witnessing this mural was a, “great honour and very emotional.”  With his first Afghanistan tour in 2004 with NATO and his second as the Senior DET Commander, W.O. MacDonald, came to the Combat Engineer Regiment in August with 22 years of service.  He personally knew twenty of the men and women memorialized on the mural.  Seeing their faces brought him to tears as he spoke to the CER members of the heroes and their sacrifice.  Many tears were shed as each regiment member reflected on the lives represented.  Men and women who will stand guard for Canada joined in solemn respect for the lives of their friends, colleagues and fellow troops who have given the ultimate sacrifice for Canada.

Chief Warrant Officer McGinnis has not served in Afghanistan, but has served in peacekeeping in the middle east.  He explained to me as we traveled on the bus that “We are making a difference, but it will take time.”  He explained that “we are building schools and we are opening up knowledge, giving a broader concept through education.”  CWO McGinnis also helped me understand that the construction of roads increases integration and awareness of other people.  This isn’t the information that you hear on the news or read in most papers.  There is real work happening that we miss out on every day.

When we visited Dave, there were 154 soldiers represented on the mural.  He hoped not to have to add any more.  The following day, Canada lost another soldier.  Corporal Yannick Scherrer from Montreal Quebec was killed by an improvised explosive device while he was on foot patrol.  He will be added to the mural.

The Portraits of Honour will travel to the city of each fallen soldier with all money raised through donations and sponsors, directly supporting the Military Family Fund.  The tour wraps up on November 11, 2011 in Ottawa.

Combat Engineer Regiment with Dave Sopha (Front Centre)

When my son and I arrived home, he thanked me for taking him adding that he was glad he went.

Jordan, Dave Sopha, Me

Everyone's Got One

I think we all have these.  You know, these little idiosyncrasies that could make us look obsessive compulsive if they went too far?  

I have noticed my own.  If the volume on a stereo is digital, it must be an even number.  There should be a natural break in the song, tv show or conversation on talk radio in order for me to turn it off.  I tell the time to the minute, I just can’t bring myself to round it to the nearest 5-minute interval.

My mom simply CAN NOT walk past a pen on the ground without stopping to pick it up.  It might not be any good, but she can use it for parts.  She collects pens.  Pens from all over.  Not necessarily different styles, but also for the logos and designs on the pens.  She has hundreds of pens, so, she needs the parts to rebuild a pen if needed.

My daughter laughed at me when I told her about my radio and volume issues, but then said she can’t get out of bed in the morning before she fixes her pony tail.  Her toaster setting must be set to a number, can’t be in the middle and she presses “OFF” on the phone twice after every call.

A friend of mine, Peter, has to back his car into a parking spot.  He won’t bring himself to simply pull in.

Facebook friend Barry says that he has to have the coffee table lined up with the couch and any picture has to be straight.  Rob also has to straighten things out.  They just can’t leave things out of place or crooked.

Danielle, another friend says “improper spelling and grammar, especially when there is a spell check feature. It drives me crazy! I am always correcting spelling and grammar!”

Kari posted to me, “pictures and furniture definitely have to be straight for me, too, and if I'm by myself walking I often find myself counting my steps, I'm also obsessed with making sure things are spelled right.”  She read her posting five times to ensure correct spelling.

Pennies on the ground?  I gotta have ‘em.  It’s free money!

This morning on 103.1 Fresh FM, Natalie, D and Gord talked about theirs:

Gord has to check that the stove is off at least once before leaving the house. 

Natalie checks that her front door five times

Darrin can't leave his car without locking the doors with two honks on the remote.

They posted on their Facebook page, “ Do you have any obsessive compulsive tendencies that you'd like to admit to

C'mon! Get it off your chest once and for all” and received many replies.

“ Hitting clear on the calculator many times just to make sure its really clear”

“Cannot eat off anything other than a white, circle/oval plate. If you serve me a steak on a blue plate, it tastes different!”

I think we all have something.  From a clinical perspective, there is likely a diagnosis.  The leading authority for clinical diagnosis is the DSM IV - Diagnostic and Statistical Manual 4.

The first edition (DSM-I) was published in 1952, and had about 60 different disorders.  Today there are over 200 so I am sure that there is something that would fit.

Until we are all diagnosed, let’s embrace our uniqueness and our quirks.  We are all in this world together.  I heard it said this winter that every snowflake is unique but they all stick together.  Another lesson to be learned.

Everyone has a story.  

Surrogate or Adoption

Maybe I see the world through a different set of lenses, but I have hesitated on writing this for some time for fear of offending some of the readers who will encounter this blog. I have come to a point, though, that the offence is something I am willing to face in light of speaking my opinion.

I have met a couple of individuals at different times over the last three years who are surrogate parents. I thought this was quite admirable; Taking the associated risks of pregnancy to help another couple fulfill their desires to grow a family.

After all, that’s the ‘right’ thing to think isn’t it?

Something just didn’t sit right with me. I couldn’t pinpoint it and I wrestled with it for some time. If this was such a loving and selfless act, why was I struggling to embrace the concept?
I am pretty sure I have figured it out and it’s a two-fold response.

First, while there are mixed reports on the exact number, it is safe to say that more than 25,000 children in Canada are without parents and are awaiting adoption . That’s more children than the entire country of Palau. (Useless fact: There are four countries with a population under 25,000)
These are children who are in the care of child welfare agencies as well as those adoptable through private adoption agencies. These are children who have faced the loss of parents through accidents, abuse, neglect or by parental choice to sign over parental rights.

These are children who need love. These are children who need family.

There are risks to raising any child, and more so when a child is coming from a potentially traumatic past. I read on one website a response “Many people prefer international adoption to domestic adoption since it comes with very few uncertainties”  Really? Few uncertainties? With an adoption in Canada as much information as possible is gathered to ensure that prospective parents are equipped with the needed information to embrace a child into their family. I’m not clear on how overseas adoptions are as thorough. Maybe someone can help me better understand?

Second, I think this speaks to our culture's “need” to have our “own.” Take this anonymous reader response on adoption versus surrogate:

"Personally, I would want a surrogate. But only if it was my egg implanted. (do people do that?) I would not want to adopt, because I'd want a baby that was genetically mine and my husbands, but I never want to experience a pregnancy."

Genetically mine. Is it possible you could love an adopted child as much as a biological child? I sure hope so! My wife and I didn’t give birth to Cooper, our black lab dog, but he’s our dog. My wife and I didn’t give birth to Dozer, our pug, but when he died we lost a part of our family. Now don’t misunderstand, I am not equating a dog to a child, but I hope you see the point. There are many animal adoption agencies because the need is recognized.

Children though, maybe not in so much need? More than 78,000 children are in the care of child welfare organizations in Canada. Almost half have parents who have lost parental rights according to Canada’s Waiting Kids, now living in foster care or institutional placements.

An adopted child is no less “mine” than an adopted child. Ask my parents. They adopted me and I am theirs through and through.

Oh, there it is…that’s why this issue hits home for me. I am an adopted child. I was chosen.

Yup. It’s a personal matter. When Butch and Ellen had me it was a time of celebration, just as it is for many new parents. Due to complications, Ellen died just 15 days after my birth, and Butch was left as a single dad. He wasn’t ready for that. He couldn’t be ready for that. It wasn’t in their plans. Nonetheless, he was facing a time in his life of celebration and sorrow. Joy and grief. In time, he made the decision to give me up to my parents.

They knew each other. Butch and Ellen, and Derek and Vicki were friends. They traveled together, Ellen and Vicki went to school together. They were each at each other’s weddings. The tie was tight. Derek and Vicki willing accepted me into their lives as their son at Butch’s request. (Maybe one day I will tell the whole story on my blog.)

And so it was. In fact, I was to be the first of many. As circumstances were though, I ended up as the only child. The chosen only son to Derek and Vicki. I am not “genetically” theirs, but I am theirs. And they are mine. No amount of science or medical intervention would change that.
Another anonymous poster said this:

“We adopt because we want a family and to give those without a family, a family. It has nothing to do with our DNA, or being pregnant. There are so many children already here that need a loving family, a regular child-hood. We would never be so selfish as to pay someone to give birth to our child when there are millions without a mommy & daddy.”

I see adoption as destiny. Accept it or reject it, it’s your call. But as an adopted kid, sure am glad I was accepted.

Everyone has a story.  Do you have an adoption story? Share it at rowleywriter@gmail.com



More information on Canadian adoption:
http://www.canadaswaitingkids.ca/support.html
http://www.canadaadopts.com/
http://www.adoption.ca/
http://www.oacas.org/

Don't Break the Cycle

It starts in Kindergarten. You’re the new kid in the school and you need to begin establishing yourself. Now, you’re only 5 years old so you don’t even know this is happening, but your teachers do and they keep all the dirt in a student record that follows you for the next 13 years or so.

In the mean time, you work away making good and bad choices, but you make it to grade eight. Life is good! You own the school. You’re a senior. All the younger kids want to be like you because you are the top of the school’s food chain.

When grade nine starts and it’s time to start again at the bottom. You are a bottom feeder, a basement dweller. A minor niner. It’s tough to adapt for some people. Once heading up the grades, you are now nothing to the grade 12s.

Given time, usually four years, but sometimes five or more, you make it to the top again! This time though, 10 percent of the students have dropped out. They have struggled to find their place. Challenges were beyond ability. Peer settings were not conducive to success and belonging. Those who survive go on to become high school seniors. The elite of the secondary school.

Seems like we’ve been here before doesn’t it? Oh right, back in grade eight! Relive the days of being on top of the world, heading up the schools hierarchy of students. Then it happens.

Post Secondary Education. First year of university or college. You get on campus and you wander around in awe of the grandeur, but also worried like a lost puppy in a city you’ve never seen. You’re at the bottom again. The feeling here is different though. You are encouraged and supported. You have a greater sense of purpose, of future, even belonging. There is some intense learning about to take place. Everything you’ve done up to now has helped you get here, but this is a new game. This is a game changer.

Fast forward, three, four, eight years. You have your degree in hand and you’re out the door into the world. Time to start the career. You find it, the one you’ve been working so hard for, and guess what? You’re at the bottom of the pecking order again. The bottom rung of the ladder. The new guy. You are working with people who have years, even decades of experience. You, well, you just got here.

Statistics say that most people are changing jobs every two to three years now. Not everyone though. Not that cranky old guy that knows how to crush your spirit. Not the cantankerous women who has been sitting at the front desk for twenty years. She knows how to rob the joy from the very depths of your soul.

You need to find your place and hang on to your own self worth. Then the day will likely come when you reach the top of your game and it’s no longer a challenge to you. You’ve seen countless new staff come on board and look to you for answers and guidance. Now, well now it’s time to move on to a new adventure. It’s getting boring here. You can’t move around anymore.

Starting again, at the bottom of the ladder, looking to the top, where you want to be.

It’s a good cycle really. One that shouldn’t be broken. This cycle can empower us to stay on our game, to be continually challenged, even renewed. Staying on top too long can make you forget how vulnerable and replaceable you really are.

I just changed jobs after 11 ½ years. It’s a safe change though since I am slated to return to my old position in one year. Day one was like the first day in a new school. I was five years old again. I was in grade nine again. It was the first day of college again. It was time to find my fit in a new job setting. One that will stretch my comfort level beyond anything I have experienced. It’s good.

Change is needed, otherwise we become stagnant. We become too comfortable and we reject progress. Challenges keep us fresh or we risk resting on our laurels.

Starting in a new job, a new team, even moving to a new province or country to take up a new life brings with it a set of feelings and emotions that cause disturbance in our inner being. It’s good though, don’t worry. You are on a journey to become who are meant to be.

Each of us has a purpose and a destiny. Staying in the safety and comfort zones will rob you of your true potential. We each have more ability than we can imagine! You really do! Each of us is a creation, a unique, purposed and caused creation that has a distinct role to fulfill. Take courage – it’s there to be had – and try something new. Start something new. Be something new.

French poet and philosopher, Paul Valery (October 30, 1871 – July 20, 1945) once said, “The best way to make your dreams come true is to wake up.”

Physicist Albert Einstein (March 14, 1879 - April 18, 1955) is to have said, “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results” and “A person who never made a mistake never tried anything new.”
Everyone has a story. How you choose to live your life helps to build the plot line of your story. Will your story be one of mystery, drama, adventure, revolution, motivation, encouragement? Or will it sit on the shelves in the cognitive library of life, where no one takes a second glance?

Welcome to 2012

It’s really an incredible time in the world. I went to bed last night, utterly sick of the rain. I just want to get out on my motorcycle again. The rain was still coming down as we settled down for a night of sleep. Although I was sick of it, the sound is peaceful and helps one to settle nicely.

This morning was a different story.

Today it’s similar to living in the movie 2012. I woke up today to crazy snow and slippery roads. Everything is covered again. It’s actually quite beautiful. My offices were both closed today because of weather related problems like power outages and loss of phones, but we got the kids off to school.

Then we turned on the radio. Life took on a decidedly different look.

More than 100 weather related accidents around the region.

Massive earthquake off the coast of Japan.

23 foot Tsunami destroying parts of Japan with hundreds of lives lost.

Tsunami warnings in 50 countries including Canada’s west coast.

Volcano tremors in Hawaii.

Some damage in Hawaii from waves stemming from the earthquake.

Suddenly, things are put into perspective. I can’t explain why natural disasters happen and why hundreds, sometimes thousands, of lives are lost. I don’t understand why countries battle and why people riot. I can’t fathom the brutality of some world leaders. But one thing I do know and that is that my God is a good and just God. I wouldn’t want to face any of life’s challenges without Him.

No matter what you believe, there is something in each of us that stirs the knowledge that there is something more to our lives. During these days, draw near to that small inner voice. If history teaches us anything, our situations are not getting any better in the world. There will be people who look like they can save us all – just look at the US Presidential Election. It simply isn’t true. Out of crisis, a hero will emerge, that’s the pattern. Watch for it. Be aware. Trust only that which is true.

Everyone has a story. The stories aren’t from the heroes in the media, it’s the people that are humble and show a servant heart. There will be many who step up over the next few days, but very few who any of us will ever hear about.