TRAUMA AND FIRST RESPONDERS

Filed Under Courage, Events, First Responders, Healing, Life, PTS, PTSD, Service Dogs, Stress, Tears of a Warrior, Trauma | Comments Off on TRAUMA AND FIRST RESPONDERS 

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By Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D.

Two weeks ago Tony, Trooper, and I had the honor of being part of the annual Air Medical Transport Conference (AMTC) in Atlanta, Georgia. This conference was attended by pilots, flight crews, physicians, nurses and first responders from all over the world.  The convention was filled with individuals who have given and continue to give much of their lives to saving and helping others.  Many have served in the military, and many have been overseas in combat zones.  To say they are an inspiration to our communities is an understatement.  We were able to meet and talk with several individuals who shared their stories with such humility and purpose dedication. Like our military, these first responders serve their communities with courage and tenacity. They are with others at the most traumatic time of life.  They comfort, attend to injuries, and all too many times are the last person a victim sees at the time of death.

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I was asked to be the keynote speaker for this amazing group. Of course, my presentation was on trauma and how it affects both our minds, bodies, and spirits.  It was the first time a keynote speaker at this event was requested to speak on the topic of trauma and Post-Traumatic Stress (PTS).  As in countless organizations, Post-Traumatic Stress is often the elephant in the room that most don’t want to discuss and sometimes even acknowledge.  Its presence is seen and felt, yet, little is done to heal and attend to the many traumatic experiences our first responders deal with every day.

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To say I was both incredibly nervous and honored to be the keynote is an underestimation of my concerns.  I researched, practiced, and prayed for several months prior to the event hoping that the information in the keynote would make a difference to those attending.

 

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I used the analogy of a “sheepdog”.  In September we were in Steamboat Springs, CO and watched a mixture of nine Border Collies, Great Pyrenees and Akbash sheepdogs meander behind their one-thousand herd/flock of sheep as they moved from summer range in the National Forest. These dogs are incredibly protective of their herd – keeping the herd together and fighting off predators at the peril of their own lives. They look so normal in their big, furry, white bodies, but make no mistake; they are ferocious in the task of watching over their sheep. Our first responders are like these sheepdogs.  They protect, tend to, and put their lives at risk for their communities.  The question I raised, just like with our military and veterans, who takes care of the sheepdogs?

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As a society, it is our duty to make sure those who take care of us are taken care of as well. They see, hear, touch, smell, and feel events that most of us will never encounter. The burdens they carry are too often only theirs and held in the silence of their minds and hearts. Like our military and veterans many believe that if they are traumatized by their experiences, they are somehow inadequate, less fearless, and not as capable of doing their jobs.  This is totally inaccurate. One cannot function in a career of trauma without having some effects on his/her own well-being.  In fact, this is what makes them more compassionate and effective at their jobs.

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A few statistics I learned while doing my research:

  • 34% of first responders have Post-Traumatic Stress;
  • Barely half of first responders have had any training into how to deal with their own trauma;
  • Much like our military, first responders have a much higher suicide rate than the average population;
  • Female critical nurses in ICU and flight nurses are four times more likely to developed ovarian cancer than their peers;

These are just a few of the statistics that should make us all concerned and ready to share the responsibility of taking care of those who take care of us.

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Just like our military and veterans – “If we send them, then we MUST mend them.”

 

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KEYNOTE SPEAKER:

Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D.

Dr. Seahorn has been a classroom teacher and administrator for forty years. She has taught as an adjunct professor for Colorado State University and several universities in the Denver area.  For the last ten years she has been teaching a class on Neuroscience and Learning at Colorado State University.  Jan has a BA in English/Elementary Ed., an endorsement/license in middle school education and administration, a MA in Gifted and Talented, and a Ph.D. in Human Development and Organizational Systems.  Her background includes an in-depth understanding of neuroscience research and effective instructional practices, organizational systems and change. She conducts numerous workshops on the Neuroscience of Learning & Memory Systems and the effects of “at-risk” stress environments on brain development.

Dr. Seahorn co-authored the award-winning book with her husband, Tears of a Warrior: A Family’s Story of Combat and Living With PTSD. The theme focus is on trauma and how it can impact the brain, body, and emotional development of an individual. Much of the research focused on Post-Traumatic Stress (PTS) and understanding how to identify and work with first responders and veterans who have experienced trauma and associated stress.  She and her husband Tony work extensively with military personnel, veterans, first responders and families on how trauma impacts the brain.  She also works with schools and communities on how trauma experienced in childhood through abuse, neglect, and other environmental conditions impact learning and behavior.

She has written two other books, When Crap Happens Grow Zucchini: A Book on How to Live with Dying and Appreciate the Crap

Foul Wisdom: Identifying the Turkeys and Eagles in your Organization and Life

A third illustrated book on her PTSD poem, Silent Scream, is currently in production.

Dr. Seahorn’s TED Talk on post-traumatic stress can be viewed on You tube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BEHDQeIRTgs&feature=youtu.be

Janet and Tony have two adult sons, Chad and Christopher who enjoy living and working in the Rocky Mountain Region. Tony & Janet share their home with two Black Labradors, Trooper – a certified service dog, and Brody, a puppy being trained as a therapy dog to work in children’s court systems, hospitals, and schools.  The family enjoys travel and outdoor activities: history, geography, hiking, fly-fishing, rafting, snow skiing and anything that puts them in touch with nature.  Janet also volunteers with several animal shelters in Colorado.

 

 

 

 

WEAPON OF MASS DESTRUCTION

Filed Under Aging, Brody, Dog is God, Dogs, Joy Challenge, Pets, Service Dogs, Tears of a Warrior, Trooper, WMD | Comments Off on WEAPON OF MASS DESTRUCTION 

 

By Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D.

 

Recently I bought a WMD (Weapon of Mass Destruction).  It was something Tony and I have discussed and thought about for a very long time.  Getting a hold of a WMD can be expensive and usually requires some research about the seller, type, even color.  There are days I question my decision as well as my sanity.  Was this choice a wise move or one made in a moment of weakness or total impulsiveness?

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My home has been transformed into a combat zone.  I can’t leave for even a few minutes or the destruction could be massive.  This weapon can’t be left alone for any length of time.  It must stay in a secure and yet environmentally comfortable space.  Neighbors and friends sometimes stop over just to get a peek at it.  Some admire it and others are afraid to get too close just in case it might detonate itself. Some may also wonder why I would get such an item at my age and stage in life.  There are days I ask myself the same question; other times I merely feel bad that they don’t possess such a handsome and amazing weapon.

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The weapon often gives me a sense of comfort just to know it is there, to touch it, to think about its remarkable potential. I may have failed to mention that even though my WMD is pretty wonderful it was and is not inexpensive. Proper nutrition, check-ups to make sure it is in tip top working condition, enough exposure to clean air, etc.   Trooper, Tony’s service dog often wonders why we ever brought such an item into our peaceful home.  He wants to know if and when we might take it back. You see, Trooper has to watch it very carefully just in case it explodes as it frequently does at any unexpected moment.  He never had to put up with such an object even when he was being raised in prison and his training never included how to deactivate such a WMP.

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By now you may be guessing what I’m talking about, or you may know exactly what I’m describing. It has four-legs, a silky black coat, incredibly sharp baby teeth that can shred a stuffed toy or slipper in a matter of minutes. This four-legged, miniature tornado has wallpapered my front room with toilet paper reminding me of the shenanigans we did in high school when we toilet papered friends’ trees leaving them to clean up after our mess.  Maybe he is retribution for my younger days.  Even with all of these challenges this WMP is so friggin adorable especially when he is asleep.  We even gave him a name, Brody… short for brother.

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It is fascinating how we can so totally love this destructive little ####.  Tony sometimes asks why Trooper is such a super sweet, well-behaved young man. I remind him Trooper was raised in prison where there weren’t a lot of opportunities for a puppy to get into trouble. There were no kitchen counters with food where he could have managed to remove the yummy contents.  Probably there weren’t many smelly slippers to destroy, and if you misbehave there may have been bigger consequences.  WOW…. Maybe I can send Brody to jail for at least a year of training. Confinement might not be as exciting for him, but it would give us a much needed rest.  Trooper is extremely in favor of this idea.

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Guest post by Lisa Drossert

The following was on one of our friend’s Facebook post. It is very thoughtful advice and may help some of you to get through the holiday season with better understanding of what is going on in some veterans’ mind. Thank you Lisa Drossart for sharing this information.

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If you have a Combat Veteran in your family and you don’t like their moods and behavior around the holidays; please consider these six things:

1.) Your combat veteran has served in countries where people are blessed to receive a tattered pair of shoes or have clean water to drink; he/she no longer lives the “first world illusion” and no longer cares that if you buy one play station you can get a second one for fifty percent off. In fact, they find it hard to appreciate any of the gluttonous commercialism and overindulgence that permeates American holidays. Standing watch, boring as it was, had so much more purpose than going to the mall.

2.) Your Combat Veteran is thankful for the most basic things; not thankful for mega-sales and million dollar parades. They are thankful to be alive; thankful to have survived both the wars far away and the wars they struggle with inside.

3.) Your Combat Veteran is thankful that it wasn’t them that got killed, or wishes that it was them that got killed instead, or is torn painfully between the two. Either way, their celebrations are forever complicated by guilt and loss over those that did not come home. Some of the most thankful times in their life (lucky to be alive) were some of the scariest. Their feelings of thanks and celebration often conjure memories that are equally painful.

4.) Your Combat Veteran is not like you anymore. At some point, for some period of time, their entire life boiled down to just three simple things: when will I eat today, when will I sleep today, and who will I have to kill or who will try to kill me today? They are not like you anymore.

5.) Your Combat Veteran does not need a guilt-trip or a lecture; they already feel detached in their grief while others so easily embrace the joy of the season. They need understanding and space; empathy not sympathy.

6.) Your Combat Veteran does love his/her family and is thankful for the many blessings in their life…and they are thankful for you.

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by Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D

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It’s that time of year when everyone is in a hurry and streets of our downtown area are filled with more shoppers than usual. The lights, ornaments, and sounds are festive and distracting to the eye.  Often times we never notice people as they pass us on the sidewalks especially if we are on our mind-sucking phones or looking over our Christmas list of “non-essential” material crap. This was somewhat the case for me yesterday.

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As I rounded a corner, however, I couldn’t help but notice a pair of homeless men – one was laying asleep, his back down on the cold sidewalk while the other sat awake asking for loose change with a cardboard sign reading “anything will help”. I’m not sure why this made me uncomfortable or imprinted on my less than holiday spirit.  After all I had only ventured to the downtown area to buy one last gift for a friend and desperately wanted my shopping to be over.

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As I went into a store close to them I tried not to look too closely at the pair and tried even harder not to think about them as I was moving through the aisles. But there was this damn nagging memory of a professor I knew when I was getting my doctorate in Santa Barbara many years ago. This professor’s focus was working with and studying the homeless. He even spent many nights on the street being “homeless” himself. The one thing he said I remember best was “when you are homeless you tend to be invisible. People try not to look at you, talk to you, or even offer a simple smile”. You feel more insubstantial than ever. Although he said some homeless like the lifestyle, the freedom, the vast majority are there not of their own choosing, but because of a mental health issue, poverty, poor early family support… the reasons were more numerous than I had first considered.

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Leaving the store (and not the one with the gift I was to purchase), I quickly glanced to see if the two were still in their spot. Of course they were. As I walked to my next destination I couldn’t get this professor’s words out of my head, or Jesus when he said “feed the hungry”. Dang it!!!! I ended up walking almost a block to find a place to buy some food to go when I spotted a favorite coffee shop. Going in I ordered three egg sandwiches and three hot coffees.  Why three, I’ll never know it just came out of my mouth. Also, I thought the sandwiches were already prepared and only needed to be heated in their micro. Yep, that would have been too easy. The young man began making them from scratch.  It took much longer than expected and the line behind his counter kept growing making me feel apologetic that my order was making his busy day even harder to manage while those in line became more restless to place their orders.

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Finally, I grabbed the bag of sandwiches and coffee, apologized to the young man and the people in line, left and walked quickly to deliver the package while the food and coffee were still hot. Hoping the two men were still at the corner I walked quickly to finish my mission. As I approached the one man was still sleeping. Giving the other man the food I couldn’t help but notice how he had many teeth missing and decayed. It was obvious he had not been to a dentist for decades. I, on the other hand, spend far too much time in the dentist’s chair. It is troublesome not to acknowledge how blessed I am, how many resources I have to keep me healthy and well fed. The proof of my blessed life was right before me, wishing me Merry Christmas. All I could think of was “there by the grace of God go I”.

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With sadness and humility I walked to my car totally forgetting the gift I had gone downtown to purchase. The real gift was the gratitude and sweetness of that man who sat just around the corner on that cold winter day while holiday shoppers passed by quickly not looking to see the special person sitting on the sidewalk underneath a Christmas light.

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Note – The next day on my daily calendar appeared the following:

“If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain”. Emily Dickinson

And, “Father, give me Your heart and use me to reach out to someone in need. To some, this season brings much loneliness and pain. Lead me to the ones who need to experience the joy of your companionship.”

Reach out and fill a need. Merry Christmas.

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By Janet & Tony Seahorn
Thanksgiving 2018
Hard to believe another year has passed. Hopefully, your year was pretty awesome, filled
with amazing adventures and loving memories. For others, it may have been a year filled with
vast challenges. Yet, for most of us the year was probably a combination of both…. joy and
heartache, peace and chaos, and, at times, unforeseen losses and extraordinary blessings. For us
in each of these moments we were always surrounded by amazing family members, friends, and
many special strangers that came forth to shed light in darkness and serenity in daily miracles.
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As we begin the holiday season with Thanksgiving we wanted to take a few moments to
be grateful. Grateful for the love and health of our family. Grateful for old and new friends that
we felt support and gentleness during some pretty rough days. Grateful for spiritual strength that
kept us moving through these days and showed us how fortunate we were even on those days
when we only felt at a loss.
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We often forget to be grateful for good health until we lose it. We often forget to be
grateful for our food until we are hungry or grateful for the warmth of our homes until we are
homeless. We often forget to be grateful for our first responders who make life safer for each of
us. And most often in our busy days we forget to be grateful for all our veterans and their
families – past, present, and future, who sacrificed much so that Americans can live in a country
where we have so many freedoms that many places in our world live without.
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This year we are grateful for each of our joys, our struggles, what we have and what we
miss. Recently we have been grateful for the addition of our new service dog from NEADS,
Trooper 1760.

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by Janet J. Seahorn, PH.D
“Grief is the last act of love we have to give to those we loved. Where there is deep grief, there was great love.” It has been exactly six months and fourteen days since our service dog and beloved family companion, Bailey, died. We have written several pieces about our loss, but today is a time of rejoicing.
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Two weeks ago, Tony, traveled to Boston to be introduced and train with his new hearing service dog, Trooper. He is a male, black Labrador. I could hear the lightness, the total joy in Tony’s voice the moment he first saw and touched Trooper. He was so concerned Trooper, perhaps, wouldn’t like him. Not to worry, they were instant friends. I’m pretty sure that Chase and Bailey had set things up from their perch in Heaven.
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There will always be that crack in our hearts for those we have loved and lost. It will never go away, and truthfully, I don’t want it to be fully gone. The crack, the lump in the throat, the isolated tear drop in the eye, simply reminds me of how blessed, how immensely fortunate I am to have such amazing people and pets in my life. Each has given me a sense of joy, a gift of friendship, and a genuine endowment of love.
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Today we begin a new journey of possibilities, of hope, and of unconditional love with Tony’s new service companion, Trooper. We look forward for the opportunity to spend our days with another special being. We look forward for another opportunity to open our hearts to this beautiful boy. We are excited to wake in the morning, move through the day, and say goodnight in the evening with Trooper by our sides.
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Oh, and I think I told you that Trooper is trained for the hearing impaired. In the morning, when the alarm goes off, his job is to jump in the bed on top of Tony to wake him up. I’m not so sure I look forward to sixty pounds of enthusiasm that early in the day. And, yes, even Eyore is smiling.
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CHRISTOPHER ROBIN

Filed Under Happiness, Peace, Tears of a Warrior, War | Comments Off on CHRISTOPHER ROBIN 

By Janet J. Seahorn, PH.D
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It’s been a while since I’ve written a blog. Grief pretty much stole my motivation and ability to be creative. I’ve kept busy doing the mundane every day chores of cooking, cleaning, shopping and every once in a while going to the movies. Movies these days don’t require one to do much thinking. You only need to sit in front of the big screen and vegetate on what’s in front of you while eating massive doses of whatever fits your appetite. However, this afternoon was different. I went to see the children’s film, Christopher Robin. It began with a young boy’s early years of innocence and freedom. Once grown, Christopher experienced the horrors of war. Gone were the simplicity and innocence of youth, replaced with the reality of life, responsibility, and stress.
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The film and its characters are really a metaphor of life and our many personalities. Eeyore represents depression and gloom – an inability to see joy or hope in any situation. Although he is pretty adorable, being Eeyore all day can be exhausting. Piglet is our fear and anxiety side. The world holds many scary dilemmas and facing them can be terrifying. Having others around us to hold our hand and support us through our fears is the gift Piglet shows us.
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Tigger is our joyful side giving us balance and impulsive curiosity to seek new adventures. He is spontaneous and delighted to experience every new adventure, yet, we can’t live all of daily life as a Tigger. As enticing as that appears, it can also be exhausting. And, then there is Winne the Pooh – sweet, thoughtful, loyal, and unwavering in his hope for the day, the moment. When we forget our “Pooh”, we lose our hope and our faith to face the day. We forget that staying in the present moment may be exactly where we need to live. The yesterdays and tomorrows are simply too much to absorb and maintain our sanity.
Embracing all of our special characters helps us to be a fully functioning and loving Christopher Robin. A Christopher Robin that finally realizes the most important things in his life aren’t work and responsibility. The most important things in life are family, friends, and taking time to explore and appreciate all of the wonderful, even challenging experiences that are available at each moment.
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P.S. – stay tuned to our next blog. Even Eeyore would be happy – at least for a moment.

U.S.S. Indianapolis

Filed Under American Patriotism, Cleatus Lebow, Tears, Tears of a Warrior, USS Indianapolis, War | Comments Off on U.S.S. Indianapolis 

by guest writer, Terry Creekmore

Reposted by popular request.

-Tony & Janet Seahorn

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USS Indianapolis

A Poem about Cleatus Lebow,  a World War II survivor of the U.S.S Indianapolis.

Written by Terry Creekmore, Tsgt (E-6)  Wyoming Air National Guard.

 

The old man shuffled through a gas station in the flat north Texas land.
Unremarkable but for the hat he wore as I paused and shook his hand.
USS Indianapolis the hat said on its brim.
I’d read the books and heard the tales as I stared in awe at him.

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Cleatus Lebow was 87 years old when I shook his hand that day
But his life was defined by a mere four days and the memories were there to stay

Four days that few remember

Four days he could not forget

Four days that haunt the nightly dreams of those survivors who live with regret

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~ Heroes walk among us still today and their stories need to be told ~

Normandy, Bastone, the Canal and Iwo will make your blood run cold
Few remember and fewer still care about those events so long ago
But few have endured the terror and pain of the hero Cleatus Lebow

The Indy was a proud ship that now only sails in lore
She delivered the bomb to Tinian and helped end the greatest war
It only took twelve minutes for her to sink beneath the waves
Nine hundred men in the water but only 300 would be saved
The heat the cold the thirst the sharks all took a terrible toll
The men who survived would forever be seared to the marrow of their soul

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~ Heroes walk among us still today and their stories need to be told ~

Pusan, Inchon and the Chosin Few

Battling in that terrible cold

So many heroes of that forgotten war are quietly growing old
Yet their sacrifice and bravery have never been extolled
Few remember and fewer still care about those events so long ago
But few have endured the terror and pain of the hero Cleatus Lebow

The navy needed a scapegoat so they court-martialed Captain McVay
The justness of the verdict is still argued to this day
The letters and the guilt and the ridicule made the holidays particularly strained
So in the fall of 1968 he put a bullet through his brain
Another victim of those terrible days
When the sea and the sharks made a living hell and sanity lost its way

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~ Heroes walk among us still today and their stories need to be told ~

Route Pack six, Ia Drang and Khe Sanh but the nation was so cold
There are just some things you can’t apologize for and this is certainly one
The spitting the jeers the taunting the tears they just can’t be undone

Now they are old. Most of them gone. Only thirty-six survive
Those four days are history now and only our memories keep them alive
We can never repay the debt we owe as that generation fades away
All we can do is to keep the faith and from that we will never stray

~ Heroes walk among us still today and their stories need to be told ~

Firefighters, Fallujah and Seal Team Six
the bravery never gets old

The torch has been passed and now this generation is writing its own history
Honor and tradition can still to be found in the deserts and the mountains and the sea
But they have big shoes to fill because the Indy is forever on patrol
Crewed by the souls of 900 sailors on a mission beyond their control

Few remember and fewer still care about those events so long ago

But all of us owe our freedom to heroes like Cleatus Lebow

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By Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D

 

 

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Loss presents a unique and somewhat ambiguous dilemma for humans. Those left behind
are confronted with a stream of untapped emotions. Life lingers between two spaces – the space
of the past when everything was normal, and the space that floats somewhere between what was then
and what is now. The present doesn’t feel like the present because we don’t want to accept the
reality of what has been lost and what will be our daily routine as we struggle to get through the
minutes of each day. It’s like being stuck in quicksand; you continually struggle to find footing,
while being surrounded by uncontrollable emotions.
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Your heart and mind are trapped. Facing the circumstances of the loss is agonizing, yet
you understand that staying in such a dark place will not honor the love and life of your beloved
4-legged family member nor is it healthy for the sufferer.
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Rest for the moment is unattainable. Sleep comes with too many dreams that are both happy and sorrowful.
Laughter, joy, even hunger stands frozen.
Moving forward isn’t yet attainable. However, we know eventually we can travel beyond the
yesterdays and focus on the tomorrows.

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Right now we don’t know how to do that. Still we are hopeful we will get there sooner or
later. Remaining stuck is not an option. It is too sad, too tumultuous. Most of all staying in such
deep grief does not nor will not allow us to celebrate and honor the amazing gift we were given
through Bailey.
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He was our “Joy Boy”. He would want us to wake each morning with delight and be grateful for all that stands before us.

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He would want us to continue to love, to celebrate the moment of throwing a bright green tennis ball or plunge into the lake for a marvelous swim.
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He would want us to be fully alive enjoying the wonders of each day especially remembering the wet kisses of his long, sticky tongue.
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He would want us to be his “joy” parents.
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We promise we will get to that point, Bailey. Just not today.
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Love,
Mom and Dad

Guest Blog by John DiCiacco

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I dedicate my short story to all the Men and Women that came home from
war and discovered that the War and all its tragic memories came home
with them.
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Did you ever wonder why God spelled backwards is Dog.  I used to ponder
that thought a great deal, that is until I met my first Service Dog
Wyatt.  Named him after Wyatt Earp.  Wyatt was not a Registered Service
Dog you see and he didn’t go to School and get a Degree to be a Service
Dog.  To me, though, Wyatt was much more than a Service Dog.  He was my
Savior, my Salvation and he was given to me by God.
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Wyatt came into my Life about Sixteen Years ago and until his death at
only Eleven he remained a Faithful Companion and Confident.  As a
Vietnam Veteran living with PTS, Wyatt was my Soul Mate, so when he
crossed over, a part of me had died as well.  Worse yet, many of the
emotions I felt when I came home in February 1970 was suddenly staring
me in the face.  Guilt, abandonment, distrust and yes, even anger.  I
threatened to crawl into the bottle again, that is until Wyatt showed up
in a vision and I remembered how good my life was with Wyatt Dog and
God.
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I now have another service dog that ditched school altogether and
became home schooled just like his older brother, Wyatt.  His name is
Mato, which means “Bear” in the Lakota Indian Language.  The “Bear” has
recently turned five and yes, Mato has taken up the legacy of what Wyatt
had meant to me in the past and together we are making our own memories.
Did I mention that both Wyatt and Mato are labs and both of them are
black.
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Life is good with God and Dog.
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The following words come from a short tune I heard a while back and it
is dedicated to dogs.
“You are my Buddy, my Pal and my Friend, so wherever you go I just want
you to know you are my Buddy, my Pal and my Friend.”
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In memory of another God/Dog, my beautiful nephew, Bailey.  Bailey
crossed over this February and Bailey was the proud service dog to his
Buddy, Pal and fFriend, Tony.  By the way, Bailey was also a black lab.
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One of Gods Great Gifts.
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God Bless You and God Bless America.
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