A Woman’s Stand

The face of Iran has become human again for many people in the West thanks to the brave protesters in Tehran. The young passionate faces remind us here that these protests are not about one election but rather the future of a nation which they clearly love. Facing off against a seemingly insurmountable police and military foe these peaceful protesters have changed the international perception of their people.
In the sea of faces there has been one that pushed the cause of the protesters to unforeseen heights. Neda. She has become a symbol internationally of the fight for a more clear and transparent democratic system in Iran. She has become a martyr for her cause.
Behind the dark eyes and passion was a woman who made the choice to go to a dangerous place and voice her opinion. She knew the risks and faced them head on. Her conscious sacrifice in the face of danger forces me to reflect on what I am truly that passionate about. Would I be brave enough to ever face down death for the greater good?
Neda is not alone. In Iran there are no doubt thousands who feel as strongly as she did. Despite the decreasing numbers of protesters in the streets there is no doubt in my mind that the change in Iran is far from over. The momentum is slowly building just as it did 30 years ago during the Islamic Revolution.
The jailing of political adversaries, the assault on peaceful protesters and the countless other violent tactics being utilized by those in power are evidence of their precarious situation.
No outside nation can impose a new democratic system on Iran. Only the people of Iran can do so by taking action and ownership of their nation.

Nothing to do but wait…

As the significant other of a military member I am well aware that  I will be moving every few years no matter the economic situation or the inconvenience it may cause me.  That being said it is never easy but it is always an adventure.  This move is going to be a pretty interesting one since we will be moving across the country and back into military housing for the first time since buying a house three years ago.

Despite the fact that the military does everything in its power to make the move easy, it is always an emotionally and physically draining experience.  The most painful part is the “hurry up and stop-iness” of  the whole process.  Three months (if you are extremely lucky) prior to the move you are told where you will be moving then you do everything you can to sell your house at break neck speeds and the insanity halts for a few days while the wise civil servants decide when to send you to find another home…then there is a mad dash to get the dogs to the kennel or the kids a sitter and you depart to find a home in 3-5 days.  No easy feat in itself.  When you find your future home and return the stop and wait starts.  For a few weeks you wait for the movers to come and then it is hurry up and  ”pack, load, move” all condensed into 3 days.  Then the road trip begins, us and our two beautiful Newfie dogs in a small car across the country.  Thank God for rest stops and hotels.

I am part way through this process again. Patiently waiting to find out when we will depart to find our new home.  We have 3 weeks left until the move so the trip better be successful!  Moving to military housing is always risky, it could be good but it could be horrible, especially here in the great white north, but with so little time to find a house it is our only choice right now.  

I know this might seem like a rant against being a military spouse, it really is not.  Sure there are inconveniences and sometimes frustrations but it is a life that is full of adventure and pride.  Being a military spouse may not be for everyone but I love my life and would not change it for anything.

Today is not your day either….

             

Yesterday was my convocation from three long years of graduate school but it was not about me.  You see my mother has a penchant for making all things about her including my college graduation, my first wedding and even my high school graduation.  It seems she believes that these are appropriate times to do things which often make my sister and I wonder whether there is actually a camera hidden somewhere.  Let me begin by telling you about my day yesterday and then maybe I will start at the very beginning so this story makes more sense.

1. That night would be the last time in the next twenty four hours that I felt at ease.
2. As an aside my mother also felt my wedding day was about her…

After we arrived at the location of the convocation my poor sister and fiancée had the pleasure of babysitting my crazy mother while I enjoyed the relative quiet calm of the ceremony.  Fortunately for me I was not present for my mother’s bizarre behaviour which of course drew attention to her and away from the ceremony itself.  I do not make light of the fact that she is indeed mentally ill, but I am constantly amazed that despite this I am still hurt when she insists all events revolve around her.  Throughout the ceremony she managed to get up and walk around 16 times, come back and remove her shoes as well as eat (loudly) a bag of chips which she attempted to share with my fiancée by shoving them into his mouth.  She also randomly spoke to strangers about random topics proving to be embarrassing enough for the rest of my family but she also tried to set my sister with an innocent bystander only to remember a minute later she is not even single.   After all this she feigned exhaustion and retired to bed at 6:30 pm rendering my celebratory dinner over before it began.  It ended up consisting of drive thru burgers which my sister, fiancée and I ate around my dining room table.

What I learned today was that despite all my hard work, my graduation was not about me.  Maybe tomorrow…