Thank You -- Simple Gratitude

I just read in a book that a simple thank-you is one of the most powerful forms of recognition available, and it costs nothing. A few weekends ago there was a charity Co-ed softball tournament to benefit Scottish Rite Hospital for Children. That benefit was done to thank the hospital proper like for taking such good care of some of our Wink children. Another softball charity event will be taking place the weekend of August 29th, but this time we won't be thanking a hospital...no, this time, we'll be thanking a veteran.

My favorite veteran passed away this year and will no longer be sharing his stories of being a medic in WWII. Earl Nelson Mohler, my grandpa (whom I called lovingly, grumpy), believed that people learn best from experience. Sometimes, his path to educate you left one feeling he was a bit on the ornery side. He just installed an electric fence around his garden to keep some of the pests out. I asked him if I touched the fence would it hurt me. He smiled and said of course not, go ahead and touch it. I thought about it, but then decided I wouldn't touch the fence. He reached out and grabbed a hold of that fence, stood there not wincing, not flinching...looking at me as if to say, "See, it don't hurt." So then I tried it.

Slowly with purpose I reached out for the fence, inching ever closer until at last I clutched the wire and a surge of electricity coursed through my hand, arm, shoulder...I winced in pain, I may have even cried. I then gave my grandpa a look of complete and utter disbelief. "Even those that you think you can completely trust can end up hurting you. You got to think for yourself, girl...or you'll end up a complete mess."


I never thanked my grandpa for that lesson, and I didn't always heed his advice. I've gotten my heart broken a few times, well maybe more than just a few.

In 1985, my parents moved us far away from all our family, people I'd grown up with, spent time with and loved fully with all my heart. I was saying goodbye to my grandpa, wasn't sure when I'd see him again. I asked him if he had an old sweater that he wouldn't mind parting with. He looked at me a bit quizzical, and then got up to retrieve a light brown sweater of his with pockets. "I don't know why you want that old thing, but I never wear it anymore, so here."


Almost 25 years later...the sweater still smells and feels like my grandpa, thanks grumpy.

New Mexico Law Dogs Don't Recognize Texas Disabled Veteran Plates

I took a nap before going to the gym to workout, but overslept. While sleeping, I received several calls; one from a friend in El Paso, another from a friend in Gulf Port, and a final call from Kaplan University. Kaplan called because I'm interested in working on a Master's in Curriculum and Instruction. In my email to Kaplan, I said that I don't have extra money to invest that I only want to use government grants to pay for school, we'll see how that goes.

Since I was running late already, I didn't return any one's call. I needed to get to the gym to see one of my most favorite people, Jesse. Jesse is always smiling and very positive, I love to be around him. He is definitely not a toxic person or even has negative behaviors to contend with. Jesse is also a brain cancer survivor, but the doctors were not able to remove Jesse's tumor because of it's location . He retired from the Navy as a disabled veteran. He had been in Albuquerque last week getting treatment at the VA and we couldn't work out together. When I arrived at the gym, Jesse had his hands on his hips, gave me a scolding smile and said, "You're late!" I mouthed, "I'm sorry."

Jesse then proceeded to relate an incredulous story. After receiving treatment at the VA hospital in Albuquerque and upon returning to his vehicle, he spotted a police officer writing a ticket. He questioned the officer about the ticket, the officer replied that Jesse had parked illegally in a handicapped parking space. Jesse then pointed out that his license plates allowed him to park there because printed on the plates was Disabled Vet. The officer stated that New Mexico doesn't recognize Texas disabled plates because there isn't a wheelchair stamped on the plates.

At first I thought that this officer was just having a bad day, you know, missed his morning coffee or something, but then Jesse said it happened again in a parking garage, he received another ticket for the same offense, so apparently New Mexico isn't honoring Texas plates!



I did a little bit of research and found that in the state of New Mexico...disabled veterans can't park in handicapped zones, that they also must have a placard. If you're a disabled vet from any other state...beware!