As we celebrate Memorial Day lets us all take a deep breath and look at those around us. Celebrate with remembrance. I would like to suggest that we continue to remember those who are struggling as much as we celebrate the fallen. The fallen are a reminder of how terrible we can be to each other and a caution to us all. Let us not lose focus, we celebrate because some were taken before their time.
Let us celebrate life and work to preserve our essential freedoms without the need for the loss of life. Let us celebrate nature and the circle of life. Happy Memorial Day to all.
I can still remember my first time cooking a full meal. It was summer-time and we wanted soup. Soup was what we had for dinner every Friday. For months I had observed. It was mine time to repeat what I had observed. I followed the recipe as I had seen. I made what I thought was great soup. We enjoyed to the last drop. Since then I have enjoyed cooking. I enjoy cooking and would love my girls to have the same joy from cooking. Cooking is an excellent way of learning science and may help us eat better. By better I mean great tasting food with lower caloric density.
Making breakfast for my girls this morning was a wonderful expression of my love for them and my indirect way of passing unto them great eating habits. I suggest we all cook more. We all should eat more home cooking. Eat more home cooking for better health and family unity. I made what the girls requested, one fried egg with two strips of Turkey Bacon and blueberries. What is on your breakfast menu this morning?
The sound of music off in the distance was a gentle reminder of where I was waking up. I was back in my childhood bedroom and the day had started. The heavy drum line of the music was just what I needed to rouse me from a great night. The cool Sunday morning did not disappoint. I looked out the window and saw in the distance the rising sun just above the Caribbean Sea. The sounds of sound birds flavored the air with joy and anticipation. I opened the window and my ears were treated to the full cacophony of morning time in the countryside. My nose was filled with the smell of Sunday morning in rural Jamaica. I filled my lungs and remembered. I was transported back decades to my childhood. I could almost smell the wood fire and the roasted breadfruit. The scent of sauteed salt-fish and boiled ackee. The slight sharpness of the scotch bonnet pepper just above the scent of salt-fish.
The sun rose more quickly than I wanted it to and I could feel the heat. The birds started to disperse and the smell of food grew stronger. The aroma of cocoa tea made me smile and reminded me of all the advantages of growing up in a rural farming community. The music off in the distance diminished and the chatter of farmers taking out life stock became the background. The bleat of goats and the moo of cows off in the distance. I was happy to be home. Missing some of the conveniences of the big city was worth it. I loved my rural up-bringing and would not trade it for anything in the world.
Bang! Bang! I was awoken from a deep sleep and jumped up from bed. My head collided with something hard and I fell back into bed. I felt an intense pain race down my neck and into my lower back. My face felt as if I was walking under a sprinkler. Immediately I knew what was coming next. I could taste the viscus liquid on my lips, I was bleeding. I looked up and noticed the nail on the bottom of the upper bunk. I had not slept in a bunk bed in many decades and the bed had taken its revenge on my head. The pain became more intense and I grabbed the blanket and applied pressure to my head, but the flow of blood was stead and unrelenting. I felt as if I could not breathe. I tried to open my eyes fully but my sight was being obscured by the red flow. I called for Paul, but there was no answer. I more carefully stood from the lower bunk.
I tried to move forward but did not get far. I was pulled toward the floor by an unseen force at my left ankle. I used my hands to cushion my fall and let go of the blanket and the stream of blood became a torrent. I heard the scrapping of metal against concrete and felt the coolness of the concrete floor under my elbows. The impact was painful and I screamed from its intensity. I thought the pain in my elbows would be the worst, then my chin meet the concrete floor. My jaw was on fire. I pulled at my left leg but it was not going anywhere.
Bang! Bang! Bang! I had forgotten about what had awoken me. It was gun fire. I was certain of it. I shouted for Paul again, but there was still no answer. Suddenly there was an intense beam of light. The door slammed into the wall with a loud bang and the intensity of the light made me realize how dark the room was. I heard a loud voice in a strange language. Suddenly the room went dark again. There was a bag over my head.