Words from the Heart

The fields in the Wicklow Mountains, Ireland  Top of the mornin'!  Sure, and the sun is shining bright through me window and the soda bread is bakin' in the oven. 'Tis a good day to be Irish! Well, if I went with my mother's philosophy any day is a good day to be Irish, but March 17 holds a special place in my heart. On the 17th of March, there were traditions and rituals that were part of our lives. Observing those rituals was as important to us as breathing air. When I was young, we kids started the day with Mass...early...7:30 a.m. Then, we ran home, sporting our Irish knit sweaters and green apparel, looking forward to Momma's fresh baked Irish soda bread and a cup of tea. Then, after Momma put the corned beef, cabbage, potatoes and carrots into a huge kettle to cook at the back of the stove, we would bundle up in as much green as possible to be off to the parade.  Having seen pictures of the parade from years past, I don't quite remember ...

Father's day is upon us and I am called to remember how blessed I am to have had my Dad in my life and in the life of my children.  But, it wasn't an easy journey, at first. You see, Dad struggled for many years with alcohol. However, in my early teens, he gained sobriety and kept it for the remainder of his life. In the years that followed, I was blessed with a father who had great wisdom, great compassion and great love for me and all his children and grandchildren.   There are things I remember Dad telling me that have shaped who I am today. Some of his most memorable quotes are: "A nursing mother is the most beautiful sight in the world!" "You are NOT fat, you are pregnant and beautiful!" "Make do, do over or do without. You don't need all that sh.. anyway!" "You can do anything you put your mind to doing. You're John Neas' daughter!" Mostly, though, Dad led by example. He taught me to help others humbly b...

My Dad's Boot Camp Cohort - Great Lakes John Henry Neas, Jr.  My Dad survived WWII, returning home after the Japanese signed the surrender. He saw service in both sides of the globe.  First, in Normandy, and then in the South Pacific. Dad didn't talk much about the war. Like most veterans of his generation, the stories didn't come to light until their elder years, and then, usually when around their shipmates and comrades in arms. I've written before of the stories Dad told me. Some tear at your heart and others make you laugh. The photos below are of his last ship, the USS Hyman. This was the ship that he was aboard during the kamikaze attack in which he barely escaped death.  This is the ship where the surrender was signed for the small Pacific island of Pohnpei.   Pohnpei is where the missionary wife sewed an American flag under the noses of her Japanese captors, believing with all her heart that the allies would liberate the island. The...

Signing of Armistice Aboard the USS Hyman Off the Coast of Pohnpei Photo Credit: (c) 1945 John H. Neas, Jr.  Over 70 years ago, my father stood aboard his ship as World War II ended. He and his shipmates had liberated the island of Pohnpei. There was a story he told about the landing that still rings in my ears each time talk turns to the ideals of freedom, liberty and justice for all. On the island, the Japanese controlled everything.  The Etscheit's, who owned a coconut grove, were placed into an internment camp. Carlos and Simmone Etscheit had three daughters, Yvette, Renee and Monique. In the evenings, the Simmone sewed scraps of material together in what appeared to be patchwork quilts. On the day that the USS Hyman liberated the island, the three sisters ran to the beach with their mother and father waving their mother's handiwork. Under the noses of their guards, Simmone had sewn together a US and Belgian flag. She believed with all her heart tha...

The prompt yesterday for Poem-a-day was to write a historic poem, then today, we were to write a poem about a moment. This is my combination of both.   At the Turn of a Dime    Pacific blue held them as the day at sea began like so many others. Each man had duties to preform, each holding tomorrow dreams within. In a flash of airborne light, their reverie cracked, like their ship, as bombs and planes came raining down upon them.    My Dad, the greatest hero of my life, stood at his station when his CO, a young man, barely old enough for war, ordered him to help put out a fire at the bow. Snapping to in rote military fashion, Dad ran down the deck to the fire hose. As he turned to douse hell’s fury on the deck, a kamikaze slammed like an errant meteor full force into the destroyer steel of his station. From the bow, he turned to see the crumpled iron; where he had stood moments before lay torn open as if th...