“Does a flower, full of beauty, light and loveliness say, ‘I am giving, helping, serving?’ It is! And because it is not trying to do anything it covers the earth.” Krishnamurti
“The antidote to hatred in the heart, the source of violence, is tolerance.” Dalai Lama
Yesterday was Veteran’s Day. My Dad was a World War 2 veteran. He would sometimes talk to me about his experiences in the war. I always was fascinated by his remembrances of that time and era. I have his scrapbook with old black and white photos from that time.
He would sometimes talk about other things connected with the war. I was fascinated by his description of the Navaho Code Talkers. I think it was his knowledge about these heroes of the war that got Dad interested in the books of the late Tony Hillerman. The Navahos, in spite of the fact that their lands had been taken away from them and they were stuck on reservations, were patriotic enough to do their part in helping the United States win the war. It was believed that less then 30 people in the world who were not part of the Navaho Nation would be able to decipher the code, which was their native language. Countless lives were saved because this code could not be broken. It is a story of true heroes and I would urge anyone who wants to experience a fascinating part of our history to read up on these exceptional people.
Dad and I both loved the books of Tony Hillerman and we would often try to be the first to get his new books and pass them on to the other one. I was saddened by Mr. Hillerman’s death and the world lost not only a great writer but also a true gentleman. He did so much in educating the world about the Navaho people. We can learn a lot by studying how the Navaho people live with nature and not fight against it.
I’ve been thinking a lot about my Dad lately. Today I went with my mother to pick out wallpaper for the hallway. I am realizing that in many ways that since his death I have had to pick up the pieces and do the things that he use to do for Mother. She just doesn’t seem to want to make decisions on her own. She also seems lost when there are problems and I have stepped in and helped find the answers for her and in many cases fought against companies that have tried to take advantage of her.
We have all heard the jokes about women complaining about turning into their mothers. As I sit in this room with Dad’s books and diplomas on the wall I have realized that in many ways I have turned into my Dad. That is a good thing.
“The antidote to hatred in the heart, the source of violence, is tolerance.” Dalai Lama
Yesterday was Veteran’s Day. My Dad was a World War 2 veteran. He would sometimes talk to me about his experiences in the war. I always was fascinated by his remembrances of that time and era. I have his scrapbook with old black and white photos from that time.
He would sometimes talk about other things connected with the war. I was fascinated by his description of the Navaho Code Talkers. I think it was his knowledge about these heroes of the war that got Dad interested in the books of the late Tony Hillerman. The Navahos, in spite of the fact that their lands had been taken away from them and they were stuck on reservations, were patriotic enough to do their part in helping the United States win the war. It was believed that less then 30 people in the world who were not part of the Navaho Nation would be able to decipher the code, which was their native language. Countless lives were saved because this code could not be broken. It is a story of true heroes and I would urge anyone who wants to experience a fascinating part of our history to read up on these exceptional people.
Dad and I both loved the books of Tony Hillerman and we would often try to be the first to get his new books and pass them on to the other one. I was saddened by Mr. Hillerman’s death and the world lost not only a great writer but also a true gentleman. He did so much in educating the world about the Navaho people. We can learn a lot by studying how the Navaho people live with nature and not fight against it.
I’ve been thinking a lot about my Dad lately. Today I went with my mother to pick out wallpaper for the hallway. I am realizing that in many ways that since his death I have had to pick up the pieces and do the things that he use to do for Mother. She just doesn’t seem to want to make decisions on her own. She also seems lost when there are problems and I have stepped in and helped find the answers for her and in many cases fought against companies that have tried to take advantage of her.
We have all heard the jokes about women complaining about turning into their mothers. As I sit in this room with Dad’s books and diplomas on the wall I have realized that in many ways I have turned into my Dad. That is a good thing.
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