A day to Remember...

In Flanders Fields

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

The poem In Flanders Fields was written by Lieutenant-Colonel John McCrae in World War I, and along with the poppy, have become the symbols to remember those man and woman who fought and died to protect our freedoms.

Today, November 11th, is Remembrance Day in Canada, and at 11:00 am I will offer a moment of silence in remembrance.

And I shall never forget.

iamgpe

#!@$... a spelling mistake! Thank you for letting me know.

The following is the original and the rewrite can be found by clicking here.

I have been blogging in earnest for about two years now and my reasons are simple; articulate my expertise as someone who can solve Sales & Marketing problems and become a better writer. 

I will be the first to say I will never be a great writer, but I do believe I can be a good writer and maybe even a very good story teller; I've been encouraged to this end because when I look back at my body of work I can see improvement, and I've also been told by people I respect that I am getting better. 

With all of this said, the bane of my writing experience so far is proof reading, and by extension, spelling mistakes!

This point was illustrated in glorious fashion with a recent "re-post" on beBee entitled Never lose your sense of wonder, or in other words...  where a misspelled word slipped through... and worse still, the error was in the "title".  It seems that the word "lose", which means "to no longer have", changes to something completely different when you add an extra "o" and the word becomes "loose".

This is exactly what happened when I published the original post, and in effect asked people to Never "fasten tightly" your sense of wonder; I suppose the title would work if the subject matter was about never committing to a sense of wonder, but it wasn't... and worse still, I was oblivious to all of it. 

That was until two people let me know about my error. It was then I simply said to myself, "Ugh... I better fix this".

I have come a long way from internalizing this sort of thing, and using it to identify ability and self worth; I now just see it as a problem that needs to be rectified. I will admit it was really irritating and a glaring reminder to improve my proof reading ability, but three minutes later, with the rogue "o" removed and the proper meaning restored, I was happily back to my oblivious self.

With the mistake behind me, I could not help but turn to the fact that someone, more than one someone in fact, took the time to let me know that I had made a mistake. They did it with respect, and even a little concern that I may be upset that they had pointed it out; I was not, more to the contrary, I really appreciated it.

Is there a point here regarding getting better at proofing when you write or the value in learning from your mistakes... there sure is. However, what this experience has offered me was the opportunity to pause and appreciate those people who not only read what I write but take the time to engage, and help me become better at what I am doing. Maybe it is an aspect of beBee (the social media site I am on), or that people generally want to help, or possibly the "luck of the universe" was on my side that day... whatever the reason, I want to simply say, "Thank you".

And one last thing, until the end of my days, I will never confuse "Lose" and "Loose" again.

iamgpe

PS: Please let there be no spelling mistakes.

November is coming and with it, memories of football and cancer.

The following is the original and the rewrite can be found by clicking here.

Let's talk football for a moment... the North American type.

When the day comes for you to hang up the pads (and it always does), the next day you sign up to play "touch football". Touch football tends to embrace all the same rules as tackle football, minus the teeth rattling hits... well, in theory. I've played touch football for decades and always come back to one game that will stand out among the countless games I've played. The game went something like this.

The first game of the season was perfect... partly cloudy and crisp, with just a little wind. My defensive play was solid, particularly for the first game; as I leaped for an under thrown ball and saw my first interception of the season, "something went wrong".

What happened next is a recount from memory, and what my teammates told me after the fact.

The receiver, with an eye on that under thrown ball I spoke of, charged back with the intent to, at the very least, prevent the interception. The collision between our two bodies was "dramatic" and I was knocked back towards the ground with my right arm extended. As I watching myself hit the ground, the receiver proceeded to fall on me.

With the sound of whistles and players surrounding me, I clutched my right shoulder trying to become as small as possible to deal with the pain. Over the next ten minutes as I wrestled to get off the field, three classic "dumb ass" characteristics of being a guy were observed. 

Number One: As I lay on the ground fighting the pain and trying to understand my situation, someone came up and said, "That was a great defensive play man!" To this day, the comment and recognition is greatly appreciated.

Number Two: Somewhere in my mental haze I got it into my head that my shoulder was dislocated and there were at least two attempts where we tried to "pop" my shoulder back into place; just like in the movies. This of course was to no avail as my shoulder was very broken.

Number Three: When I was able to stand and slowly make my way off the field (dropping to one knee a number of times I might add), all I kept saying to myself was, "Whatever you do, don't cry".

X-rays revealed a rather bad break at the top of the humorous, and as I got used to the immobilizing sling I would wear for the next six weeks, I called my sister to ask if she could pick me up at the hospital. She said she would and I waited.

As we left the hospital, we laughed at the sight of the two of us... me with my newly minted broken shoulder, and her with a problematic knee that now had her using a cane. I realize now that this was the last time were really laughed.

Three days later my sister stood up at work and her femur snapped. 

Her stage four lung cancer had led to secondary bone cancer, which was so aggressive, it had weakened the bone to a point the femur could not support her own weight. My sister endured two leg surgeries, never got out of bed, had one round of chemotherapy that almost killed her, and fought every day for seven months, until on a cold February night, the cancer finally took everything away from her and she passed away. 

In those seven month my sister became my hero.

November is coming, and thanks to a pair of Australians, is affectionately becoming known as Movemeber; a month where men grow facial hair and formally support prostate cancer, as well as cancer awareness in general. My sister's situation is not unique... just ask around. You can always find someone who has a story about how this disease took everything away from someone. 

Battling cancer is about awareness, early detection and support. So gentlemen, with that said, please support the battle to beat cancer in our lifetime. Take advantage of the various facial hair styles available to you.

And ladies... for the gentlemen in your life, remember they sometimes just can't help being "dumb asses", so please encourage them to get regular checkups. And while you are at it, could you also encourage them to grow a little facial hair and spread the word that cancer touches all of us.

We can beat it.

iamgpe