A Hefty Dose of Humility

** This post was written on a flight to Phoenix earlier this week. At the behest of some friends, I am posting, even though it's well off the beaten path of my normal content. But it's my blog and I do what I want; I hope you like it.**

My grandpa, Ken Baker, in Normandy, France - June 1944

Writing while overwhelmed with humility, respect and complete admiration is a new trick for me. Generally, I write angry and edit calmly. That’s the mantra I live by; however, as I write this, a young man named Owen is dozing next to me in Dockers and a pressed shirt and has awakened an unfamiliar cocktail of emotions that I simply cannot ignore.
 
Owen, a mere 18 years old, is en route to his Marine Corps basic training. He has anted up his mind, body and time for the next eight years. I am certain that when I was 18 I was not confident, brave or visionary enough to make a decision that would regulate my daily activities, and future, for the next eight years. Hell, I am struggling to face the facts that I may have to move away from Kansas for one to two years; I can’t even begin to address an eight year decision.

In fact, the only time I have made such a momentous decision was when I said ‘yes’ to a glittering rock more than four years ago. Thus far, marriage is going well but my decision to get married was no act of valor (regardless of the picture I may paint on this blog).

Owen has replied ‘yes, ma’am’ to no less than 10 questions that I’ve asked in the same amount of time. I ask him where he’s from, why he chose the Marine Corps and if he’s nervous or excited. The entire time, I’m keenly aware that I sound like a scared little school girl. I don’t want to say anything that may convey disrespect or the fact that I am abundantly intimidated by a young man 10 years my junior.

The Frobuzz household is rich with military tradition – my Grandpa Baker was on the beach in Normandy in early June, 1944. Papaw Buzzard was in the Navy in the 50’s and recalls with merriment the day his crew mates found out he couldn’t swim. The Ninja’s grandfathers were also in the service – Lowell Frobose served in the Army and his dog tags hang proudly in the Frobose farm house in NW Ohio. On his mother’s side, Grandpa Thompson also proudly wore the Army greens overseas in Japan. Several other family members on both sides of our family have risked it all and asked for nothing in return. I’m proud of our family traditions but I won’t lie and say that I wouldn’t be opposed to the Ninja signing up. I don’t possess the caliber of strength required to be an Army/Navy/Marine/Air Force wife.

We run around in our own little sphere of daily activities thinking that we are important and that everything we do is more pressing and prestigious than anything else going on in the world. I’m proud of what I do and who I represent. I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve felt pride at walking into a room of cattlemen while being the only woman wearing boots and a blazer. Stupidity. I am no one, I am not courageous and I will never have the gumption of this young man. I wish that our nation’s leaders were required to serve in the armed forces – they could all learn a thing or two from Owen about courage and moxie.

He is reading his general orders now as I spy over his shoulder, but I’m too shy and apprehensive to inquire as to their nature or meaning. He’s taking them very seriously. I have unfaltering respect for my seat mate.

Before he deplaned, I thanked him. I’m not sure if he felt awkward or if it actually meant something to him but his service means a lot to me. I doubt that I will ever forget Owen and I hope that God watches over him and his colleagues for the rest of their lives.

Until next time,
~ Buzzard ~
 

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Thursday, March 20, 2014

A Hefty Dose of Humility

** This post was written on a flight to Phoenix earlier this week. At the behest of some friends, I am posting, even though it's well off the beaten path of my normal content. But it's my blog and I do what I want; I hope you like it.**

My grandpa, Ken Baker, in Normandy, France - June 1944

Writing while overwhelmed with humility, respect and complete admiration is a new trick for me. Generally, I write angry and edit calmly. That’s the mantra I live by; however, as I write this, a young man named Owen is dozing next to me in Dockers and a pressed shirt and has awakened an unfamiliar cocktail of emotions that I simply cannot ignore.
 
Owen, a mere 18 years old, is en route to his Marine Corps basic training. He has anted up his mind, body and time for the next eight years. I am certain that when I was 18 I was not confident, brave or visionary enough to make a decision that would regulate my daily activities, and future, for the next eight years. Hell, I am struggling to face the facts that I may have to move away from Kansas for one to two years; I can’t even begin to address an eight year decision.

In fact, the only time I have made such a momentous decision was when I said ‘yes’ to a glittering rock more than four years ago. Thus far, marriage is going well but my decision to get married was no act of valor (regardless of the picture I may paint on this blog).

Owen has replied ‘yes, ma’am’ to no less than 10 questions that I’ve asked in the same amount of time. I ask him where he’s from, why he chose the Marine Corps and if he’s nervous or excited. The entire time, I’m keenly aware that I sound like a scared little school girl. I don’t want to say anything that may convey disrespect or the fact that I am abundantly intimidated by a young man 10 years my junior.

The Frobuzz household is rich with military tradition – my Grandpa Baker was on the beach in Normandy in early June, 1944. Papaw Buzzard was in the Navy in the 50’s and recalls with merriment the day his crew mates found out he couldn’t swim. The Ninja’s grandfathers were also in the service – Lowell Frobose served in the Army and his dog tags hang proudly in the Frobose farm house in NW Ohio. On his mother’s side, Grandpa Thompson also proudly wore the Army greens overseas in Japan. Several other family members on both sides of our family have risked it all and asked for nothing in return. I’m proud of our family traditions but I won’t lie and say that I wouldn’t be opposed to the Ninja signing up. I don’t possess the caliber of strength required to be an Army/Navy/Marine/Air Force wife.

We run around in our own little sphere of daily activities thinking that we are important and that everything we do is more pressing and prestigious than anything else going on in the world. I’m proud of what I do and who I represent. I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve felt pride at walking into a room of cattlemen while being the only woman wearing boots and a blazer. Stupidity. I am no one, I am not courageous and I will never have the gumption of this young man. I wish that our nation’s leaders were required to serve in the armed forces – they could all learn a thing or two from Owen about courage and moxie.

He is reading his general orders now as I spy over his shoulder, but I’m too shy and apprehensive to inquire as to their nature or meaning. He’s taking them very seriously. I have unfaltering respect for my seat mate.

Before he deplaned, I thanked him. I’m not sure if he felt awkward or if it actually meant something to him but his service means a lot to me. I doubt that I will ever forget Owen and I hope that God watches over him and his colleagues for the rest of their lives.

Until next time,
~ Buzzard ~
 

Labels: , , , ,

11 Comments:

Anonymous DairyCarrie said...

Good on you girl and God Bless Owen.

March 20, 2014 at 9:07 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Amen! They allow another 2% to grow our food. And, the freedom to do that has everything to do with your seatmate. Well said!

March 20, 2014 at 9:27 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Your Grandpa Ken is smiling down on you today (as I'm sure he does many days) and would be so proud of you. Love, Mom

March 20, 2014 at 9:35 AM  
Blogger Angela said...

Believe me, the strength of being a military wife comes when you realize that you can't live in a pity party or constant fear for the length of a deployment. It's hard, there are bad days, but the day he comes home makes it worth it. You're a very strong woman, Brandi, you could do it!

March 20, 2014 at 9:57 AM  
Blogger Brandi Buzzard Frobose said...

I'm not sure I could Angela but I'm so thankful that you and Arik make sacrifices for myself and millions of other Americans. Thank you!

March 20, 2014 at 10:11 AM  
Blogger Rebekah Gustafson said...

Great story and so true! I think that the men and women that serve our country deserve a lot more than then receive. I also come from a long line of military family including all of my grandfathers, both my Mom and Dad (they actually met in the Air Force) and three of my siblings. I myself only served in the Army ROTC program though college and high school. Their sacrifice for us and our nation really puts our own lives into perspective, and teaches us what is really important.

March 20, 2014 at 12:50 PM  
Blogger Brandi Buzzard Frobose said...

Thank you Rebekah and thank you to your family for their commitment, dedication and sacrifice!

Also, thanks for reading :)

March 20, 2014 at 7:43 PM  
Blogger LScheller said...

Your words are a wonderful honor to Owen and all US service men and women. Their courage is humbling. Great read! Gave me goosebumps.

March 22, 2014 at 10:54 AM  
Blogger Brandi Buzzard Frobose said...

Thanks for reading, Lauren and thanks for talking me into pushing publish!

March 22, 2014 at 9:49 PM  
Blogger J.Rhoades said...

Love this and I'm glad you branched out and wrote it!

March 26, 2014 at 9:43 AM  
Blogger Jennifer Dewey Rohrich said...

Beautifully written Brandi! I am with you.. I am not sure I could be that strong. But I guess God provides for us in any situation! Thank you for a refreshing perspective and a look into the lives of a small percentage of our population and what they face daily. "We run around in our own little sphere of daily activities thinking that we are important and that everything we do is more pressing and prestigious than anything else going on in the world." Amen to that. It's a hard one to remember! :)

May 23, 2014 at 10:31 AM  

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