The Twelve Days of Christmas Movies

Up for a new tradition for the holidays? Try creating a list of twelve Christmas movies in twelve days! Including Samantha and Mitch, we each got two movies to add to the list. No one argued what movies were on the list, although we debated whether or not Die Hard was a Christmas movie. It turns out that it is according to a film historian.  However, we removed Love, Actually for The Little Drummer Boy because there was a whole lot more sex in the movie than Lisa realized. 

It was fun sitting down each night to stick with watching one each night from December 13 to Christmas Eve. Even Grant stuck it out for twelve straight nights!  Actually, I saw some movies that I have never watched all of or watched in decades; Christmas Story, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, and The Little Drummer Boy. Unlike today, in the days of streaming services, forty years ago you paid attention to the TV section of your newspaper to see Santa Claus is Coming to Town or you waited another year.  

We saved the list so we don't repeat next year. And with so many Christmas movies, it will be decades before we have to start over! 

  

T'was the Night Before Christmas

T'was the night before Christmas and all through the house. 

The luminaries were lit along the roadside  at the behest of my spouse. 

The house was clean and the rooms upstairs became quiet.

This is so much better that previous year's riot.

We don't do reindeer food or cookies and milk by the fireplace. 

Yet, there is something to be said for a good helping of chilled Buffalo Trace.

The last of the presents were placed under the tree.

In hopes that in the morning, Christmas magic might still spring free.

While we search for peace in the world with all our might, 

There is peace in this small home tonight.

To borrow a line from my favorite Christmas tale that has been spun, 

"God bless us, everyone."

 

A License for Anxiety

This is a new chapter in the family journal; one filled with anxiety and trepidation. 

TJ is now a licensed driver in North Carolina and can drive on his own. Very few things should scare a parent more than a teenager with a license and a vehicle.  I know that from the moment that he pulls out of the driveway until the moment he parks the car at home that I will worry.  

From my younger years as a Trooper I have seen the results of accidents where teens were at the wheel. A common saying then, and now, "What's more dangerous than one teenager in a car? Two."  According to the CDC, "accidents (unintentional injuries)" remain the highest cause of teen mortality. As a parent you spend a decade and a half protecting your kids from the things that can harm them. You baby proof the outlets in the house. You watch them on the playground before they climb too high. You don't let them play in the driveway without making sure they don't chase a ball into the street. With some kids, watching them is a full-time job. Then, one day, your legacy, your future, your progeny can go out on their own in a car.  You ask yourself if you have done enough to prepare them, and the answer is usually, "No."

When TJ started driving, I was the main parent who sat next to him. for the most part I remained cool and collected. One time while we were driving on I-40 to the beach I noticed we were going fast but I couldn't see the speedometer. I casually asked TJ how fast we were going. With his hands at the "ten and two" position he quickly glanced down and back up and said, "85."  I gently, but firmly suggested that he back off to about 75mph.  I have only had to yell twice, with one of those times scaring him because he failed to see the car coming at him that he was about to pull out in front of. He was sacred enough that his eyes welled up - despite him trying to brush it off with, "Dad, I got it."  Again, have I done enough to prepare him?

Lisa, ever the smart one to leverage technology, found an App that tracks all of the family members but more importantly, gives the speed at which people are driving and notifies you if there is an abrupt stop indicating a crash. Now we can track TJ behind the wheel and hold him accountable when he returns home. I know there are video cameras and other technology we can add to the car for both safety and accountability.   

It will take a couple of years before TJ has the confidence of driving; driving in the dark, rain, heavy traffic, and long distances. His confidence will be commensurate with my anxiety easing up - but never really going away. 

Giving Back

I have a great picture of my dad from the early 1970s. He is sitting in his Monroe Lumber Company pickup truck with a snowplow on the front of it. He is parked on the ice in the middle of Mill Pond in Monroe, NY, having just plowed an ice rink for the community. I don't know if someone asked him, or dared him, or - least likely - paid him to scrape the snow off the ice.  My dad was third generation in our town and he was member of the community. He always gave back to community in one way or another.  He was a Volunteer Fireman, he plowed neighbors driveways, he opened our home to strangers, the police and the Troopers always had a place at our dinner table. Watching him growing up, I saw it was something you did when you had the means and ability.

I lived in two small cities in upstate New York. Aside from my official duties in law enforcement, I never got involved in the community. I had no excuse. I could say that work and the Army Reserves took a lot of my time, but there is always more time to give if you really tried.  The rest of my life was to turbulent to focus on anything except for me. 

When we moved to North Carolina we started two new jobs, built a house, moved a second time into that house, and had Grant - all in twelve months. My career in the Army was significantly picking up with three major commands - plus a deployment - over the next six years. There was never any time to give outside of the family and two careers. 

I helped with the local 5k race, Run the Quay, of which I have been a contributor for the last five years.  Aside from that, I didn't get involved in Fuquay-Varina.

Retirement from the Army opened up a whole lot of white space on my calendar.  For two years I "took a knee" and did nothing. Then, last year, I met with some people in the Chamber of Commerce who were looking for help with the annual town Christmas Parade and needed an "Army guy" to be bossy and get the parade in order. This was the opening that I needed and I volunteered.  The parade was a success.  

This year I am the director of the whole parade. With my team, we have managed the issues and problem people with ease. People respond to my emails and listen when I speak. Yes, it feeds my Army ego when they call me Colonel Brown. My small contribution to Fuquay-Varina has opened other opportunities for me. It's nice to be recognized in town. I have lunch with the Mayor from time to time. The Chief of Police sees me in a crowd and comes over to say hello. People in the town government email me. I am being asked to give more - and I can and I will.

I want my children to understand the importance of giving back. In this case, to the community that we have called home for almost a decade and a half and the only hometown the boys will ever have.  I am very happy we settled in Fuquay-Varina. The town has grown - and continues to grow - into a good place to live and raise a family.  

Friday Night Lights and Thursday Afternoons Too

Football was never our sport until this year when Grant announced that he was going to try out for the Fuquay Varina Bengals - Middle School - team.  Despite our apprehensions we watched Grant go through try-outs and make the team. Without a doubt we are very happy for him; watching him be part of a big team sport, having a little bit of swagger in Middle School, seeing him make something for himself that his big brother does not have.  of the trapping of a football game are there in Middle School play; cheerleaders, running through a banner, parents who know how to play the game better than the coach, and some good plays.  

The games at this level of play and understanding of football have a "Fifth Quarter" - a term new to us. Fifth Quarter is five minutes of offense and five minutes of defense for the younger and newer member of the team. Those kids play but the score does not go toward the actual four quarter game.  Grant is a Fifth Quarter player. He plays mostly on the offense, but he has played defense too. In one game they actually passed to him, but the throw was wobbly, and he missed it.  Watching him play, I can see that he is in the game but never middle of the big play.  So far, I have not seen him make a tackle or significant block. However, for someone who has never played before, he is out there doing it!

Middle School is such a difficult time for kids. I am glad this is building his self-esteem.  The other week we went to a Willow Spring High School football game. Grant went with us but went off on his own with a bunch of friends.  When we found him there were three or four girls around him, taking his picture, and playing with his hair.  Something is clearing working for him.  

The teams current record is 4-1. When the team returns from an away game with a win, the bus rolls into the school with the horn blaring and excited kids hanging out the windows. You would think that they won the state championship!  And yes, I honked the horn too!  

We are truly happy for him on this venture. I am sure he will try out again next season. If he makes the team he will be bigger and stronger and that means he will definitely play more of the regular game.  All of this is good for him and his self-esteem - but we are hoping he switches to Cross Country in High School!

Family Time

We had our first visit as a family to Mitch and Sam's house in Tennessee. 

We made it fun for the boys who flew on their own from RDU to BNA while Lisa and I drove across I-40 for a night outside of Asheville, NC.  The boys got a full day with their sister and brother-in-law full of bowling, a high ropes course, and too much food.  Listening to the stories, they all had a blast.

We got to spend time with Buoy, Sam's super pampered puppy; a big sweetie of a Labrador.  Grant seemed to really take to the dog. Buoy is Sam and Mitch's first foray into taking care of something besides each other. If their care for the dog is any indication, if they have a child, that child will be spoiled long before the Grandparents can ever get to do it.  

The day after we got there we drove to Mammoth Cave, KY, the largest cave system in the world. We explored the main cave, which reminded me of the Metro train stations in Washington, D.C. I am not a fan of tight spaces - especially when there are hundreds of thousands of tons of rock above me - but I managed.

Carving out these moments for them only reinforces my wish that they build relationships that will last long after I am gone.  Andy and I struggle to this day, finding neither common ground or an ease around each other.  Lisa and Linda seem to do a better job of being siblings in adulthood. My wish is - and has been for over a decade and a half - that Samantha, TJ, and Grant, are able to reach out to one another for support and family time at any any time.  

Friday Nights, Alright!

We have been a part of this town for thirteen years. Our boys have grown up here and will forever identify with Fuquay Varina as "home." We have set roots here and made it our own in little ways. I got to dedicate a Blue Start Memorial Marker. Lisa established a 5k to benefit the Willow Spring Track Team. We are organizing an event for a local charity. TJ is a prime athlete in three seasons of sports. The boys volunteer at the church. Yes, in small ways we give back to the community.  

I like being part of the community. We visit local eateries and breweries.  We "Run the Quay" 5k every year. The Chief of Police knows me and says, "Hi," whenever we run into each other. We know the mayor. We are not well known but we are not anonymous either. Although I can't imagine staying here forever, nor will we be long remembered, it is still nice to be a part of the community.  

Last Friday was the first home football game of the season for Willow Spring High School. TJ already goes to the games because he is a Junior and living his best life hanging out with his friends at the games. I love that for him.  Lisa and I went, just to see our home team try to win. We found another parent we know and sat with her and then a "local personality" who writes positive Facebook messages about the town sat with us.  He and I talked football and small talk while Lisa and her friend talked about the kids and small talk. A perfect combination. 

Because it is a new school and that they filled the school without Seniors or Juniors the first year it was open, and then let the classes matriculate each year, this is first year we have Seniors on the football team! Maybe we could hold our own against other teams for a change.

The first two quarters of the game it looked like we were off to a bad start. A 70 yard touchdown run was called back. The quarterback refused to throw the ball, even on third down and 13 yards.  In fact, the offense never got beyond their 35 yard line.  Then, with about six minutes left in the half, the QB launched one into the End Zone for a touchdown! We were up 7-0.  The opposing team could not mount an offense and gave up the ball.  On the next possession we scored again! We missed the extra point, but we were up 13-0 into Halftime.  Lisa and I chose that time to slip out.

There is something special about being in the stands when the team is winning. It is more electric and charged. People pay attention more. It is obviously more fun. The other team came back and fought all the way to the end but the Willow Spring Storm prevailed.  A good start to the season!

That is all for now from our corner of North Carolina.
 

The Tale of Thomas Brown

Thomas J. (TJ) Brown was born in June 2007, in Ithaca, New York.  He lived there for three years until his parents, Richard and Lisa moved the family to just outside Raleigh, North Carolina.  In the sixteen years that he has been on this earth, TJ has been to Alaska and New York City. He has climbed Angels Landing in Zion National Park and braved Disney's Hollywood Tower of Terror at 4 years old. He has broken a 5 minute mile and learned to sail.  He is the "favorite oldest son" set between Samantha and Grant (the "favorite youngest son").

Thomas Andrew Brown (Andy) was born in Goshen, New York in 1970. He lived, played and raised two children in the Hudson Valley region of New York until he moved to Florida in his forties.  He has been a stock car race official, a fire fighter, a department of transportation worker, a 911 dispatcher, and is currently a State Trooper. He is a new grandfather, taking on the moniker of "Pop-pop" the term used for Rodney Brown. Andy is living his best life outside of Jacksonville, FL.

Thomas A. (Tom) Brown was born in Bay Shore, New York in 1933 to Rodney and Jean (Lichtenberger) Brown. He was the middle of three children. He grew up on Long Island and played soccer in grade school but dropped out of High School in his senior year only to be drafted into the U.S Army at the end of the Korean War.  He was a truck driver at many times in his life. He was a volunteer fireman and the head of the safety crew at Orange County Fair Speedway. He owned and ran Monroe Lumber and Building Supply Co., a business he inherited from his father, who inherited it from his father-in-law, Joseph Lichtenberger. Tom Brown had two boys, Richard and Andy, and brought them up in Monroe, NY until he retired to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. He passed in 2006.

The tale of Thomas Brown gets fuzzy in this next chapter. 

Thomas R. (Rufus?) Brown was born in Connecticut in 1899.  The 1910 Census lists the Brown Family living in Danbury, Connecticut. It appears as if Rodney Brown, who was born on October 3, 1899, had a brother, Thomas R. Brown, also born in October 1899.  The family lore is that Rodney and Thomas were twins. However, in another document, Thomas R. Brown is not listed and Rufus Brown, born in October 1899 is listed. Is Rufus actually Thomas? Thomas Rufus Brown? We know Thomas existed because in 1916 he attempted to enlist in the U.S. Army but was disqualified due to a previous impairment. We know that his brother, Rodney, did enlist and did go to France in World War One. Up until very recently the family lore was that Thomas did in fact go to France in 1918 and was gassed by the Germans. He died of complication of those wounds when he returned to the US. Another version of the family lore was that he committed suicide. Whatever his fate, by the 1920 Census, Thomas/Rufus no longer appears to be living in the Brown household and his trail goes cold.

Thomas C. Brown was born in Ireland in 1855 to Robert Brown (1826-1887) and Jane (Jeffrey) Brown (1829-1882).  Thomas C. Brown emigrated to the United States on July 17, 1857, with his parents on the steamer ship, City of Brooklyn. The Brown Family settled in Danbury, Connecticut. Thomas would be a hat maker, like his father was before him. Thomas my Great-grandfather) would marry Margret Neiland and raise ten children: Eva, Robert, Hellen, Mable, Ruth, Francis, Andrew, Thomas/Rufus, Rodney (my grandfather), Beatrice, and Raymond.  Thomas C. Brown died sometime in the 1930s.

Five generations of Thomas Brown, reaching from 1855 to present day; one hundred sixty-eight years of family history and mystery in one name. 

 

Grant's Best. Summer. Ever.

This summer goes to Grant who had a remarkable summer at Camp Seagull. While we love all of our children's accomplishments, every once in a while, you need to remark on exceptional performance. 

Every year we drop the kids off at Camp and cross our fingers that they are with other kids who they like, that our kids try something new, din't embarrass us, and that they continue the tradition of wanting to go back again next year.  Camp has become a thread of our lives. It was instrumental in Sam learning she was capable of doing things she never thought possible - going from being terrified on a sailboat to being an accomplished keelboat sailor. Camp brought us to North Carolina and a whole new amazing chapter of our lives. Moving to NC included Betty moving and living near us in the last decade of her life and getting to have the full "Grandma Experience" with her grandsons.  Camp helped TJ this year as he learned about leadership for the first time as Counselor in Training. Camp is more than a thread. It is a part of the patchwork quilt of our lives. 

This summer Grant entered Camp Three in Cabin 44 with all of the expectations of a 12 year old; whatever.  

About a week and a half after he arrive we got our first letter from Grant. In it he causally mentioned that he wanted to swim the Neuse River. The campers who take on this challenge will swim the width of the Neuse River, about 2.5 miles, however for safety purposes it is a big 2.5 mile loop.  We both read it and thought it would be a huge challenge for Grant, but clearly one he had put some thought into.  The next letter home reiterated the same challenge. He also mentioned how well he was doing in archery and sailing.  His counselor also lauded Grant's service in the cabin and how great he was doing. These were all of the things that made his mother's heart swell and had me beaming with pride.  

Three weeks in, Grant's letter home still had the same level of determination in it and it appeared that he made the team.  

Of course he made the team. Of course he swam the Neuse. Of course he completed it.  And that was just for starters.  He casually mentioned that he received the highest rank in Grant archery.  Then he dropped the big one on us. He was such an amazing camper that he received the Camp Three Honor Camper - such a rare accomplishment that we were awestruck.  He received awards and certificates and a real plaque for his wall.  Truly an awesome summer for him.  

Grant is so quiet at home. Being the youngest will do that - according to Lisa.  He is easy going and comfortable watching TV or throwing the football in the pool.  The other morning he left a note on the counter saying he was going for a run - at 6am.  He is a hero and has done more incredible things at 12 than most teenagers do before they hit their 20s.  And for that I am so proud to be his dad.

 

Minor Moments of Grace and Beauty

Once in a while magic happens so quietly and with so little fanfare that we fail to enjoy it.  It's the hot, hot of the summer and right now the days are too humid and stifling to be outside until the evening.  On these days you have to wait until the sun sits low on the horizon to go outside. At that time of day, the birds still chirp and sing and the cicadas make their noises mixed with sounds of kids playing down the street and mowers running off in the distance. Those are the comfortable sounds of a suburban summer.  

Our house sits on a small pond and we built a patio so that we can sit outside and enjoy the sun backlighting the trees on summer nights. There is just enough lawn where the kids could play football and soccer when they were little - or better yet, set up the Slip-n-Slide for some real fun.  Somehow, taking a moment to sit outside seems like a luxury, and we do not do it often enough.  Yet the other night, there we were, Lisa and I just sitting and talking, with our faithful dog, Lucie, at our feet.

Lisa saw it first. It looked like Odin, our neighbors Doberman Pincher.  I was walking out in the trees and shrubs between the pond and the lawn. I came into the open. It was a young deer.  Lucie, sat up and stared. Lisa and I went quiet. We quietly ordered Lucie to "Stay" since she wasn't on a leash and loves to chase deer when she can.  The deer stopped, stood, and stared back at us.  Maybe it was the first-time seeing humans and a canine just doing nothing. It seemed neither intimidated nor concerned with seeing us, but still kept its eyes on us.  It bent down and nibbled some long blades of grass and poked around the bird feeder.  

It walked out of the wood line and onto the yard - maybe thirty feet away.  We. All. Just. Froze.  The moment seemed to go on for minutes. It stood there in the warm summer air at dusk. Our souls swelled a little, just caught in that special place of something so unique that seemed to be just for us.  

Then it turned and walked further down the pond.  

Sometimes life is about the value of small things.

Before and After

  

Grant is the Marilyn Munster of the Brown Family. He is smart, good looking, and funny but different from the rest of us because of his hair. We know that he gets grief from the Middle School crowd, Neil Peart's lyrics from Subdivisions playing in my head, "conform or be cast out," but his strength is being different from the rest of the pack.  

I love, love, love Grant's hair. The genetic roulette landed on red for him; the result of red heads on both sides of his parents - although neither one of us are Gingers. He gets a lot of complements, especially from women - something that will work in his favor down the road.

While his brother looks good with shorter hair, Grant has always looked good with long, slightly unkempt hair. A mop.  Grant keeps is neat and brushed but ten minutes after he does that, it's a mess again. It seemed to fit his personality somehow. 

On the second to last day of 6th Grade, Grant decided to get a haircut. Not a trim, keeping the back long and the hair out of his eyes, but a dramatic new look.  He went in looking like a boy and came out a young man. The change, for me as a parent, was profound. He looked like he was more ready to enter High School than 7th Grade. I know I will get used to the new look in time, but for now I keep asking myself, "who is that guy?!"

He is simply awesome. 

 

Rule: Never Coach Your Kids

I have had a general rule in my life that I have maintained even before I had children; never coach the kids.  To be clear, this is my rule only. I do not impose this rule on other parents who nobly pick up the mantle of "Coach" and take their offspring and a dozen other kids into the arena of youth sports.

I simply do not have the temperament to be a coach. I have too much Army in me and doubt I have the ability not to become a raging A-hole.  When I was an ROTC instructor, that temperament suited me, the Army, and my Cadets very well.  Last month I ran into one of my former students, a Cadet from the first year I instructed Army ROTC.  He is married now with kids who are the boys ageish. He is a PhD and way up in his state's secondary education system.  We shared stories about that year - stories about Captain Brown. Lisa, incredulous that I was ever that mean, was regaled with stories that indicated that I may have caused another human being PTSD.

I really enjoy watching the kids engage in sports. TJ runs and I stand in the fourth turn cheering him on. Grant plays volleyball and has a wicked serve that most kids can't return.  But I can feel that urge to want to yell Grant's team when they are clearly not working together as a unit, or when individuals make the same mistakes. I imagine having to restrain myself from yelling at a bunch of 12- and 13-year-olds, and then punishing them with Front-Back-Gos until I get tired.  

I did coach on the town's Cross Country team. That consisted of a bunch of Middle School aged kids who ran for 40 minutes in various drills; Ultimate Frisbee, sprints, Last Man Up drills, etc. I was easy to coach because with running you generally get better the more you run. I even had TJ on the team! I would still get irritated if I saw kids holding back or not running to their potential, but for the most part it was a good experience.  

I don't want to steal the fun of playing by being that parent who over-coaches their child from the official sidelines. After a track meet or volleyball game that didn't go very well it is a lot easier when all you have to say is "better luck next time, buddy."  

Toy Story 10 Miler in Photos

Woody and Buzz met us at the finish line of the Toy Story 10 Miler. 

Goofy. Goofy has always been my favorite Disney character. Forever. I whispered that to Top Hat Goofy and got an extra hug before I took off again.

Aren't you a little short for a Green Army Man? So proud of TJ for getting the salute right.

Good ol' Jesse.

Mickey and Minnie in the center of Hollywood Studios. Shortly after this photo was taken, Jack and TJ took off on their own and crushed the last five miles of the course.

Donald Duck was waiting for us right outside of Hollywood Studios, underneath the Sky Liner.

We could have used a little Frozone on a hot April morning. 

Whew - someone older than me in the race!

Spring Break 2023: NYC Random Memories

The look on TJ's face when we exited Penn Station out onto the busy 7th Avenue and 33rd Street in front of Madison Square Garden as he glanced up at the Empire State Building.

Times Square at 8:00pm on a Sunday, packed with people; tourists and hustlers.

The view from the Top of the Rock at Rockefeller Center at night, in a chilling wind, looking out on all of New York City.

Walking the Brooklyn Bridge toward the city and marveling at the architecture of both the bridge and the city and knowing my mom would be so happy we walked the bridge.

Showing the boys exactly where Daddy threw up on the Staten Island Ferry after his NYC Marathon.

Watching Grant play chess in Central Park with a very nice stranger who coached him in ways mom and dad can't. 

Seeing a "traditional" Broadway Show and having TJ fall in love with Philipa Soo.

NYC Bagels. NYC Pizza.

Sitting at a small table, literally in front of Macy's Department Store at night, sipping ShakeShack milkshakes, underneath the Empire State Building lit up in orange and blue. Later walking through Macy's and seeing the old, wood escalator and having a faint (but vivid) memory of standing in the exact same place with my mother almost fifty years ago.

Walking the sacred and hallowed space of the 9/11 Museum and being overwhelmed by it all. Crying at the weight of it all - knowing how it changed lives forever.

The $hitstorm media circus that was Donald Trump's arraignment in a New York City Court. But we were there to witness history.

Watching our boys try to figure out this thing called "Modern Art" at the MoMA. It was easy taking in Monet and Van Gogh, but we had a hard time explaining how some dead guy's toenail and beard clippings in a jar on a shelf was art. 

Watching our boys run in Central Park, as spring bloomed everywhere, like they have been doing it for years.  

Our boys letting us take them everywhere, most days walking 8 to 9 miles, without complaint and at the end of the trip stating that they would like to go back and do the things we missed.

Being turned off by Chinatown but totally loving Little Italy.

Seeing "big spaces"; the deep blue of the Oceania room in the Museum of Natural History, the silent reverence of St. Patrick's Cathedral, or the bustling noise of Grand Central Station.

Tacos No.1. If you know, you know.

Connecting with parts of ourselves, the movies that we've seen, and revisiting old memories of things and people gone by in a new set of memories and experiences.  

My Hometown Hero is Great with Surprises

"Lisa, we are not going to Greensboro." He said. "I've got news for you. We are going to the Smith Center to watch the UNC - Duke Game."

"What?" I cried. "Dressed like that?" I was all confused. A few days earlier Rich let me know that we needed to go to Greensboro for a building dedication-- his old Army Reserve Unit had a new building and they were calling on the old guard to come in so they could show it off. While Rich-- now retired-- did not have his uniform on, he was still looking as sharp as ever in a button-down, khakis and a blue blazer. This new news did not add up. 

He went on to explain that at THE MOST IMPORTANT GAME of the season, at THE BEST RIVALRY GAME OF ALL TIME, at THE MOST TALKED ABOUT GAME IN THE STATE OF NORTH CAROLINA, he would be recognized as the "Hometown Hero" for his 33 years of military service. As a thank you to all veterans, Window World (a sponsor of UNC basketball) honors someone in the military at each game by treating them to complimentary tickets and recognizing them during the first official time out when the crowd needs something to cheer for (and some good PR). Tonight, they chose my husband. And he kept it a secret from me. . . for two whole weeks. . . .until we were too close to UNCs campus to be able to spin any more tall tales of why turning down this road would be a faster way to the new reserve center (whatever).

It was just a week ago when I made a comment about how I missed the fun part of army life. We got to do some pretty fun things: military balls, special ceremonies, a trip to Germany, standing at the start of the NYC marathon, Blue Star Highway dedications, jumping with the Golden Knights, etc. And now, with Rich retired, creating our own fun was just a bit harder. And the thing is, while I was complaining, Rich knew. He knew he was sitting on these tickets. He knew that what he held tight-lipped would be the BEST military moment for ME because of my love for the Duke-UNC rivalry. Rich knew I'd have to eat my words. And so he waited for just the right time to offer up the surprise. 

It was a great game. . . as all UNC-Duke games are. But it was great this time because WE WERE THERE. It's a bucket list item for me. . . something I have always wanted to experience. The volume of the crowd. The excitement of the game. The history and respect of both basketball teams. And what made it even more wonderful was that this bucket list item was not about basketball anymore. Going as a couple and having Rich recognized as the "Hometown Hero" of the game made it a story about us, how fortunate we are, and how good things do happen to good people. I know Rich felt honored to be recognized at the game. But I know that what brought hime even more joy was to surprise me with something that he knew I would be over-the-moon about. And it worked. 

The icing-on-the-cake and the cherry-on-top was that Duke won. It helped heal the wound from last year when UNC rained on Coach K's last game parade (see last year's blog post). Yes, I would have LOVED to experience a UNC win on the home court (I can only imagine the insanity). But, I'll happily take a Duke win too. There was just no way to lose tonight! I consider myself lucky either outcome. I got to go to a UNC-Duke game all because of the hero my husband truly is. 

Our seats for the first half were GREAT. . . cause we borrowed them. :)

Check one off my bucket list!

Hometown Hero!

Rich being recognized.

Duke pre-game huddle.

Outside the Dean Dome.

In front of the Carolina Club (where we had dinner)