Describe a time when you witnessed bravery in someone you admire #postaday2011

My children were four and one years old (1989) when their Dad and I separated and eventually divorced. The first six to nine months after we parted, his time with the kids was somewhat unpredictable. When a schedule was established the kids were with their Dad every other weekend and alternating holidays. Some of the toughest moments during these years was peeling my son, the one year old, off my body to release him to his Dad. As the kids grew older the transition better homes was easier; however it never went without challenges. I admire the bravery it took for my children to pack their bags, leave their friends, spend hours in the care, and many years of their lives uncertain, confused, troubled, and sad. I can't change the past and did my best to take care of their childhood. They continued to be brave and courageous as they moved into the teens and shifted when and how they choose to visit their Dad's house. I watched them struggle with decisions to not visit and not visit. I witnessed their struggle to care for themselves and maintain a connection to their Dad and their sister and brother. At times it appeared there were no answers, and yet, they continue to find a way to continue to make it work. I admired their ability to try and make it work. I admire the young children there were and the young adults they have become. Perhaps these life experiences were an important part of their character building - I wonder sometimes who they might be without the divorce. We talk about it and wonder...it doesn't really result in any resolution.

When I thought I had witnessed the more remarkable bravery in someone I admired, the two of them surprised me. On February 1, 2007 word about their Dad's death at Camp Adder, Iraq was received by an Army Causality Assistance Officer and Chaplin. Both kids were still in Ames but not living at home. It took some time for me to prepare myself to be there for their grief when the news was announced. Liza and her now husband received the news first. Scott was gathered by Dan and brought to the house where he received the news. After a few minutes of talking and some awkward moments of painful silence, Scott stepped forward and shook the hand of the messenger and said, "Thank you, I believe we have all we need for now." He leaned over to his sister and put his arm around her shoulder.

I have never witnessed the bravery it took to withstand this news. They went on to reconnect with family members, and attend the funeral of their Dad at the ages of 21 and 18 years. My kids acted with bravery in these moments. They have the best part of their Dad in them - bravery, courage, dedication, stubbornness, and tenderness. It was good character to parent and raise into amazing young adults. May the rest of their life be the easy part. They have had their share of needing to be strong and brave.

I admire, respect, and honor my two amazing children - Elizabeth Anne Goldapp and M. Scott Mettille and I am grateful for the 10 years your Dad and I were together. I have the best part of him still in my life.

Mwah AaaH!! I love you!

What's the single most important thing you accomplished in 2010? #postaday2011

There were many things that felt like accomplishments in 2010. But this is one that stands out and causes me to feel most fortunate - I turned 50 on October 28. I have never minded the act of growing old, in fact I have always thought of birthdays as a tremendous gift. The background behind this perspective comes from my older brother, Scott.

Scott was diagnosed with cancer in 1980, just after his 21st birthday. He died two months later, just before my 20th birthday. We were 17 months apart in age and went through a lot of the same experiences together. Scott had been in the Army for the past three years and was scheduled to be discharged in July (about a month after he was diagnosed). After passing out in a shower in Germany, he was transported back to the U.S. and was treated at Fitzsimmons Army Hospital in Aurora, CO.

Fitzsimmons Army Hospital

 Scott had a tumor on the outside of his lung, between his lung and heart, the size of a grapefruit. It was inoperable. As I understand the type of cancer he had - it is not the type that could be cut - it had to be killed or shrunk. So, he received radiation and chemotherapy to accomplish this goal. Scott was a bit over 6 feet tall and healthy, weighed about 180 pounds. The treatments took him down to around 135-140 pounds and wiped out his appetite.

Our family - Mom, Dad, Tim, Lisa, and me - were all in Aurora shortly after Scott arrived. We spent July 4 together on the top of the hospital and viewed 8 or 9 different sets of fireworks displays. Scott was too weak to walk and we took turns pushing his wheelchair. July 4th always brings back this memory for me. After 3-4 weeks Dad had to get back to work and my younger siblings and I left with him - Mom stayed at the hospital.

The chemo and radiation did the job. The tumor had shrunk and Scott's appetite was back. Mom called home and shared the good news and said that Scott was asking for Taco John's - taken as an indicator that he was feeling better. Mom returned home and Scott's prognosis was good.

I'm not certain of the timeline, but I think Mom was home for maybe a week when a call came from the hospital that Mom and Dad needed to get back to Colorado immediately. Scott had pneumonia and his lungs were filling with fluid. They got on a plane immediately while family and friends took care of Time and Lisa, while attempting to find me. I was working in Winona, MN after finishing my first year of college.

Scott died around 10:30 pm on August 6, 1980. He turned 21 on May 20 that year. His death changed everything about life, family, and the future. Each birthday I had following his death - particularly my 21st - were filled with emotion and guilt. As the years passed I began to let the guilt go and let gratitude be the emotion I felt.

Growing old is something my big brother Scott never experienced. He lived a full life in 21 years, but deserved another 80 or more to do the things he planned on doing.

I wasted several of the years after Scott's death. But around the age of 29 years my thinking shifted and I began to put life into some order and purpose.

Turning 50 in 2010 is the single most important thing I accomplished in 2010. I honor my brother Scott and celebrate the gift of another birthday that I was fortunate enough to receive.

1st Sgt. Scott A. Rosenthal, Karlsbad, Germany 1980