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Last Saturday was family day at Dales workplace.  As with our foray to see his office in the Pentagon, our opportunities to see where Dale works are few and far between. This day was the big deal. The organization had completed their move into their new building and the director had opened the building up on Saturday for all families to come and see.

Dale works in a large glass building with a central atrium. The majority of walls are glass and most work areas are open to view. Dale says everyone calls the building the ant farm and when you are inside, that is the best description possible.

They had kids activities outside and inside of the building. Outside, Zeke rode a pony and petted a really fat bunny. All the kids climbed in and out of two helicopters and played with the heavy rubber weapons on display by the police. Inside, we ate our $5 lunches, jumped rope and hula hooped in the gym, and dusted a frame for fingerprints.

Throughout the building there were a multitude of funky modern office chairs to sit on. The kids sat in all types of chairs in many areas. Abby liked these bright green chairs with high backs and metal legs that rocked slightly. Gabe liked the chairs in the classroom that had cup holders and swinging t.v. tray desks. He told me we should buy some for the living room to be able to watch t.v. during dinner. (He has Manry blood running through his veins for sure.) When Dale and I were first married, I explained to Dale that we would sit down at a table together for dinner – not sit around the living room in front of the t.v. with plates on our laps. He was a bit taken aback by this new mode of eating, but has been a good sport about it for 21 years.

The majority of people at Dale’s office building work in open cubicles. A few get small offices with sliding track doors. Fewer still have an office with a real door. Dale’s office looked pretty much like all his offices have looked: unoccupied. He has no “I Love Me Wall,” no plants, and no desk paraphernalia except a daily cartoon calendar. Sadly, he does not even have a family photo. He has a giant white board, multiple computers, an old coffee travel mug, and a scratched and faded thick plastic mug from Kraft foods that Dines gave him years ago.

In the atrium, numerous organizations were set up with candy and toys for the kids. One table had a lollipop tree that kids could pick a lollipop from and then the woman behind the table would give the child a globe key chain for a prize. I brought Zeke to the table first and he got his prize. Gabe and Abby went next. Last, I brought Josiah over and told him to pick a lollipop. The lady just stood there.

“Can he have a prize too?” I asked.

The lady looked taken aback, and I thought “I got four kids, lady. Do you know what a pain in the neck it is when all but one gets a prize?”

“Sure,” she said hesitantly. “You can have a prize if you want,” and she handed Josiah his globe key chain.

I then looked over at my 17 year old son with a full beard and it slowly dawned on me that maybe the days of lollipops and prizes had passed him by.

Today I am officially a civilian. Although I left the Pentagon at the beginning of October, I’ve been on transition leave until 31 December. I started work as a federal civilian with the National Geospatial-Intelligence Agency (NGA) on 8 November 2010.

Fortunately, my first day of Army retirement was also a Saturday. So I didn’t have to go to work today and got to do this:

I did share with Mugs my New Year’s resolutions:

1. Less TV – More Bible study
2. Call at least 1 family member (Dad and siblings) each week.
3. Train for the Marine Corps Historic Half Marathon (15 May 11).
4. Accomplish 26 Things this year

The last one, 26 Things, will be a running list of projects that I’d like to get done throughout the year. I accomplished the first one today, Clean the Garage. Mugs is allowed to add things to the list. She likes that and already had a few items to add like “Fix the back porch” and “Replace the front rail”.

In addition to cleaning the garage today, I went for a run, studied the Bible, and called my sister Tami. I’ve made it one day so far, only 364 more to go!

Compliments of Sofio:

The Guy in the Suit

Dale isn’t much for the big show. When we graduated from West Point twenty years ago, the graduation itself was such a huge ceremony that Dale did not want another ceremony just to pin on our LT bars. Some friends, and his Daddy’s presence on the day, got him to reluctantly agree to the ‘pin on’ event. It was decidedly low key.

He has maintained this low key attitude throughout his Army career which spans from 1984 to 2010. Every promotion, every change of command, every degree, every career milestone was marked with as little ceremony as possible. I usually got him to agree to do something, although he did it reluctantly.

For me, the most memorable ceremonial event was his return from Iraq. The kids and I  met him at the airport with the Manry family band: Josiah on baritone, Abby on flute, Zeke on bongo, and Gabe singing “When Daddy comes marching home again, Hoorah! Hoorah!” I smile whenever I think of it.

I have always joked that if you cut into Dale’s vein, there may be a chance he would bleed green. He loves the Army. If the decision to remain in the Army was based only on himself, retirement would have stayed far in the future. However, his decision making has always been tempered by how God directs and what is best for the family. He acknowledged that it was time to retire from the Army and submitted the retirement paperwork to set the process in motion. He now just needs to make peace with it.

Yesterday was his final out-processing appointment, and after turning in his badges, he was escorted out of the Pentagon. He has so many leave (vacation) days stored up that although he will technically still be in the Army, he will not be working for the Army during the 2+ months he has remaining.

Sadly for both of us, he will not be able to lay around the house for the almost three months of TDY and leave, because he starts his civilian career with the National Geospatial-Intelligence Agency (NGA) on November 8th.

He was hoping to depart the Army by the back door, but the Army and his wife insisted he do something to acknowledge his 26 years of faithful service. On Wednesday, we attended a small ceremony inside the vault and he was given his retirement award, a U.S. flag, a thank you certificate from the President, and a baseball cap proclaiming “U.S. Army Retired.”

My brother Rob, his son Marcus, the kids and I were there with his office mates to observe the ceremony. The highlight of the event was the cake. Dale may not care for elaborate ceremonies, but he is fond of elaborate cakes. A friend made his retirement cake. There were two cakes, one was a replica of the Pentagon, and the other was Dale speeding away from it in a Mustang convertible.

If the cake had depicted reality, I think he may have been closer to making peace with his retirement. Unfortunately for him, the only Mustang he owned was eaten by friends and relatives.

During our tour of the Pentagon, we entered the Memorial Chapel for the victims of this horrible, sad day. The entry foyer is a quiet, respectful place where people can learn about the victims, both those on the plane and those at their work , and leave words of encouragement to their families.

The chapel itself is a place of peace to pray for those who each day mourn the loss of their loved ones taken suddenly in an act of hatred and violence.

On the grounds of the Pentagon, the outdoor memorial is open to the public. You do not need special access to visit it. It is a somber place with cantilevered benches representing all those who died. The benches are angled in rows based on the victims year of birth.

Viewing the benches of the children that were killed is especially difficult.

As with many things representing the military, it is stark and somber, severe, and harsh to look at. Like the rows of crosses at Arlington, and the names carved in black on the Vietnam wall, it demands an accounting.

There is a cost to keep our nation free. Please pray for the families of those who have paid it.