I must say I love daffodils. They have risen their bouncy heads and opened their bright faces to the sunshine that we have had over the last several days. Daffodils always make me smile. Yellow is to me the happiest color. The forsythia bushes are close behind and should color my yard in a yellow haze soon. Ezekiel has decided he loves daffodils too. Today we were taking a walk around the garden admiring the colors of spring. We were standing near a large batch of daffodils when he suddenly declared, “I love daffodils! So pretty!” He then bent down, wrapped his arms around them and gave them a big hug.
Ezekiel has decided that it is time to learn to dress himself. Whenever he undertakes this endeavor, he alternates between “I do it myself” and “I can’t”. Last night after his shower, he informed his brother “I do it myself” and attempted to put on his pajama shirt. He was soon crying and yelling in frustration. I ran upstairs to see what was the matter, and found him stuck in his shirt with part of his head and one arm through the holes. His brother was standing there laughing and I asked Josiah why he didn’t help Zeke. “He said he wanted to do it himself” was the reply. The boy is quickly becoming his Father. Friday morning, Ezekiel had eaten his cereal and was still hungry, so he decided he would have a snack. “Marshmallows, Mommy?” No. “Cookie, Mommy?” No. “Fruit snack, Mommy?” No. “Chocolate, Mommy?” No. He went on and on and on and on and on naming every unhealthy thing in the house. For those who have been in my house, no matter the location, you know the list can be quite extensive. I repeatedly told him that he had to eat something healthy and to stop asking me for all these unhealthy things for breakfast. After a long while, he finally got quiet. At which point, Josiah turned to him and said, “Zeke, do you want a cookie?” I swear, he’s stealing his Father’s lines. Anyway, I informed Josiah that even if Zeke says “I do it myself”, he may help when Zeke is stuck. Today Zeke was trying to put on his socks. “I can’t,” he said. “Why not?”, I asked. “I don’t know why,” he replied. “I don’t know why” is his favorite phrase. “Why aren’t you in bed?”…”I don’t know why.”…”Why did you take your jacket off?”…”I don’t know why.”…”Why did you get the computer stuck?”…”I don’t know why.” And so my day goes. After getting frustrated in her attempt to help me when she was here, my Mother informed me that I never want anyone to help me. I always want to do it myself unless it is something that I am unable to do and only then will I let someone else do it for me. I didn’t have a good response for her then, but I do now… “I don’t know why.”
Muhsan is a 77-year old Kurdish gentlemen who lives in Amadiyah, Dahuk Province, Iraq. Amadiyah, also called Amadi, is approximately 10 miles south of Turkey. Muhsan is the most influential person in Amadiyah; he is also highly regarded and respected throughout the entire province of Dahuk. He spent most of his life as a Freedom Fighter fighting for the Kurdish people. At one point in his life, he was a Member of Parliament for Kurdistan. I had the privilege of meeting Muhsan during my recent visit to Dahuk. Gee was able to arrange the meeting because of his family ties. Muhsan is the uncle of Ravina, Gee’s wife. I visited with Muhsan at the KDP Headquarters building in Amadiyah where his son, Muhammad, works as the KDP leader for the region. It turned into quite an event. After spending a couple of hours in discussions, we had lunch at Muhammad’s house with his father and some of his brothers. In the photo, seated on the orange couch are Muhammad and Glenn. Kneeling in the front is Saleh, Muhsan’s son who is running their farm and tending the livestock. Kneeling in the back is Muhsan’s son Hakar. He is the head of the Special Forces group that provides security at PM Barzani’s ranch. Standing is Ahmad, the son of Muhsan’s daughter. Ahmad’s father was killed by Saddam’s forces in the early 80s. Next is Gee. After Gee is Hashe, Muhsan’s youngest son and personal driver. Hashe’s daughter is in the picture, but I didn’t get her name. The last one standing is Rebin, Hakar’s son. I am seated on the couch next to Muhsan, the patriarch.
After lunch, Muhsan took us into the mountains to see the snow. He is very proud of a road construction project that will provide access for some of the isolated mountain villages and wanted us to see it. We drove along the finished portion of the road and parked at the end. Then we began walking further into the mountains on the unfinished portion. He is extremely fit for a 77-year old man. As he said, he spent most of his life living and fighting in the same mountains. At the crest of one hill, we spotted a Kurdistan flag flying. It had been left by the construction crew when they stopped work for the winter.
The last two days have been warm and the insects and frogs have started making sounds at dusk. I am praying that Spring is arriving. Last week, while my parents were here, the weather was cold. We had the pellet stove burning every day. Winter did not want to give up it’s hold just yet. As well as the cold last week, we had sickness. Zeke and Abby both got the gastro (as they say in Australia), better known here as the stomach flu. It was a bad one. I slept on a cot in Zeke’s room for a few nights because he had “the throats”, his wording for throwing up. He still periodically informs me, “I’m all done the throats, Mommy.” Throughout their times of sickness, I fought the fears and worries that tried to beset me. “What if I get sick? How can I handle this?…” My worries can just go on and on and on until I work myself into a tizzy. Then, being in a tizzy makes me mad and I begin to rage at the injustice of Army life. “Why did they have to send my husband to Iraq? Why do tours have to be a year or longer? Why won’t this tour ever end?” My rage does me no good. For the Army, Family is far far down the list. Although it is capitalized. In the midst of my worried and angry mood, Zeke came walking down the hallway towards me with a giant tin of marbles and dropped them. Marbles were soon rolling everywhere. I looked at him and said, “You and me Zeke, we’re both losing our marbles.” My friend Martyn calls from Australia to encourage me. My brother, Howie calls and prays with me. Then, all the things that God has been trying to speak to me are once again heard. Peace comes again into my heart. God is faithful to me. Throughout this deployment, God has been faithful to me. I am surrounded by people who have helped me when I’ve needed it and I know would help me again. I tell myself, “think on the good not the bad, be grateful not selfish, love…always hopes.” Spring is full of hope. I see it in the robin looking for worms, the daffodil that has just opened, the yellow stems of the forsythia, the soft buds on the pear tree. “Play some baseball, Mommy?”, Zeke asks. So, out Zeke and I go to pitch and hit and hope for the best part of Spring which will arrive in just over a month.
