Life In The Fast Lane

I suppose my idea of life in the fast lane might seem very different from most people’s idea of it. When most people envision that statement, they think of rushing out to parties, clubs, dances, and other such social events. For me, life in the fast lane means a life filled with family, work, and responsibility. It means meeting yourself coming and going, because there is too little time in the day. It means staying up late in order to get the things done that didn’t get done during the rest of the day. It means using a little bit more gas, because I make extra trips to the homes of family who need my assistance. It means keeping my cell phone on and with me at all times, so that if I get that call saying that someone has fallen, I can go to them…even at 3:00 in the morning.

Sometimes I get weary, I’ll admit that, but I can’t say I would change what my life is. There is something to be said for being needed. It is rewarding to know that because of what you do, the life of another is made easier and better. Whether it is helping with my grandchildren or my mom and my in-laws, I know that what I do gives comfort and peace of mind. I love my family, and I enjoy nothing more than spending time with them, in any capacity.

Yes, I lead a very busy life. I work, walk, care for others, blog, Facebook, Twitter, bowl, read, spend time with family…basically I live my life. Yes, it is life in the fast lane, but I guess that is the only way to get into my life, everything I want most to have in it, and that is ok by me.

World War II

My dad joined the Army Air Force in March of 1943. The Army Air Force was a branch of the service that was pretty much unique to its time, and no longer exists today. Dad was trained at Miami Beach, Florida, Gulfport, Mississippi, and Dyersburg, Tennessee. He was then stationed at the 8th Air Force Bomber Station at Great Ashfield, Suffolk, England as a member of the 385th Bomber Group for the next 8 ½ months. Dad was the top turret gunner on a B-17 Flying Fortress and also served as the flight engineer. At the time of his discharge, he had reached the rank of Staff Sergeant.

During his service, he took part in two major aerial engagements including the D-Day attack on Normandy and the England-Africa shuttle bombing of the Messerschmitt aircraft factories in Regensburg. He was decorated with the Distinguished Flying Cross, signifying extraordinary achievement, courage, coolness and skill while participating is numerous bombing attacks on military and industrial targets in Germany and installations of the enemy ahead of the advancing Allied Armies in Western Europe, Air Medal with four oak leaf clusters, signifying his shooting down 4 German fighter planes, and two gold stars, signifying his part in two aerial engagements.

Another notable experience that my dad had during his career was when the plane was coming back to base after a bombing run, and the landing gear would not come down. My dad then hung upside down in the open bomb bay doors area, while being held onto by several men, and hand cranked the gear down, getting it locked just moments before the landing.

My dad rarely spoke of the war, and never thought of himself as a hero, but I know better, as did, I’m sure, the men he saved by making sure they could land safely. I’m so proud of you Dad!! I love and miss you very much!!

Our Friend Marge

Today I went to the funeral of a long time friend of ours. It’s strange that you can know someone for a long time, and yet be quite shocked at the things you didn’t know about them. Marge was 90 years old when she went home, but she just never seemed that old. She was always full of life and very feisty. Everyone who knew her…loved her.

So the new things I learned about her today, is that she was in the Navy and this little tiny woman, who was no bigger than a minute, was trained as a mechanic in the Navy, and served as a mechanic in Hawaii. I can no more imagine her as a mechanic than I can imagine that I can sprout wings. I was shocked and amazed.

Now her love for bowling, gambling, bingo, and cards, were things just about everyone knew about Marge. In fact the bowling alley is where I first came to know Marge. She seemed always to be there. She did bowl a lot!! When she wasn’t doing the other 3 things she loved to do.

Another thing I didn’t know, and found very interesting, is that she moved to Casper, Wyoming by looking on a map when she decided she wanted to move out West. She came here by herself, made a life for herself, got married, and stayed. That is amazing. What great courage that shows. Most women would never even consider such a thing, and yet Marge not only considered it, but made it happen.

Isn't it odd how you can know someone, and not really know them. Yes, she was an amazing lady! And many, many people were blessed to have known her. And now she lives with Jesus, and we will see her again. So good bye for now Marge, til we all meet again.