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Surviving Spouses | A HOUSE IS NOT A HOME
Home, is variously described as "a person's native town or country; a house, apartment or other place of residence; the place in which one's domestic affections are centered; a refuge." It is the refuge we instinctively seek in times of trouble. And if we cannot be there physically, our thoughts are seldom far from the place we call home. Home is where we find unconditional love expressed in a warm embrace, a hopeful touch…an encouraging smile. It is here that we find nurturing encouragement. The laughter, the tears; our successes and disappointments are all shared within the security of our homes. Every holiday, birthday, and special event celebrated adds to our memories, further defining the place we call home. However, for military families, home is where military orders and the mission send us. In fact, if there is one constant in our lives, it is this: as soon as we find the best pediatrician, dentist and our favorite ethnic restaurant - as soon as the last box is unpacked and the last picture hung - then and only then, will the inevitable orders arrive. For us, home is no longer one abode or sanctuary; and our community is not one readily identified on a map. Home is not simply an address like 621 Aspen Street, 807 Truax, or 408 Baywood. It's not even a street named Sneed or Idaho Avenue, or dozens of other streets in military housing, or in the many civilian communities where we are welcomed. By necessity, our sense of home transcends time and space to find a place in our hearts. On occasion, the places we call home are often far from homes of record, family and friends. And they sometimes present decorating and other challenges. However, the challenge has been ably met by generation after generation of American military wives who have made the simplest of abodes, warm refuges of love and understanding. In the early days, home could be a lean-to or even a tent. Military wives such as Libbie Custer rode by their husband's side by day and tented the plains by night. And they found clever ways to make a tent a home. In the 1800's one military wife would write: " Our camp mess has been started, and we will be very comfortable I think. I am making covers for the bed, trunk and folding table of dark blue cretonne with white figures, which carries out the color scheme of the folding chairs and will give a little air of cheeriness to the tent." Home is not so much defined by where we live as it is by how we live. Home is where we share our common values, faith, and hospitality with others. It is also where we strengthen our family bonds as we survive the alerts, endure the difficult separations, and frequent moves. However, because of our travels and tradition of hospitality, we are able to share our faith and patriotic values with others. Perhaps our patriotism results from knowing first-hand the sacrifices willingly made every day by America's freedom fighters. Recently, I attended a local Memorial Day Service. An old veteran, who lost a leg during World War II, hobbled slowly to the stage and recited a very emotional poem. Later while leaving the service, his wife told me the poem was about their son who died in Vietnam. Then as she walked away, she turned to me and said, "it takes a lot of blood to keep that flag flying free." As we are reminded of the price of freedom, family becomes even more precious to us and home becomes its safe harbor. Home is and always will be a state of mind and an attitude - an attitude of love. Our community is anyplace and everyplace that we can make a contribution, both on and off base. The two constants amidst all the change are our family and our extended military family. A house is built of mortar, stone, bricks or wood. However, a home is built of love, expressed in our words and actions. This enduring love, not limited by space or time, is selfless and long suffering; it does not envy, it is not filled with pride; it does not behave unseemly, nor is it self-seeking or easily provoked. The love that builds homes, one memory at a time; bears all things, hopes all things, and endures all things. It stands firm in the face of war, long separations, and frequent PCS moves. Carolyn Quick Tillery, a homemaker, attorney and author is married to Colonel J. R. Tillery. She is the author of At Freedom's Table: More Than 200 Years of Recipes and Remembrances of Military Wives. Her first book is titled, The African American Heritage Cookbook: Traditional Recipes and Remembrances From the Tuskegee Institute. APPLE CRISP5 cups apples, cored, pared and sliced
2 Tbsp. fresh lemon juice
3/4 cup sugar
1 tsp. ground cinnamon
3/4 cup butter
1/2 cup firmly packed light-brown sugar
1 cup all-purpose flour In a large bowl, combine the apples and lemon juice and lightly toss to coat. Add the sugar and cinnamon, and mix well. Arrange in a buttered 11/2-quart baking dish. Melt the butter and combine with the brown sugar and flour. Spread over the apples. Bake for 35 to 40 minutes in a pre-heated 325-degree oven, or until the apples are fork-tender and the topping is slightly browned and crisp. Serve warm with ice cream or whipped cream. Serves 4 to 6. |
