Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
An elderly woman asked for my help at the coffee shop yesterday. She’s another coffee shop regular. I’ve seen her here for several years. By observing and eavesdropping, I knew where she lived, what she drove, her previous occupation, her standard order, and her name.
She’s named Sandy. As I helped her, she said, “I was an elementary school teacher.”
I replied, “What a coincidence! I used to go to elementary school.”
She laughed.
I’m thinking of Sandy today because I’m reflecting on Mom. Mom is 89; Sandy is 82. I’ve witnessed Mom’s decline over the past decade. I’ve seen Sandy declining over the past two years. She used to have no problem walking. Always a diminutive person, she seems smaller, thinner, and weaker, and struggles to stand, sit, and walk. Terrible to see.
It affects me because I’m also seeing such a decline happening in my wife. It’s surreal because I’ve had many more medical emergencies and don’t attend to my health as my wife does. I generally bounce back from whatever I endured. Yes, my bounce is not as high these days, and it takes more bounces to get back to close to what I was. My wife, though, is slowing and weakening. She often loses her balance. Her diet and activities are becoming so limited.
All of this reminds me of how impermanent things are. This is true of products, societies, our bodies, our existence. Ground Penetrating Radar finds forgotten settlements. We come across photographs of relatives we never knew about. Genetics and genealogy can fill in blanks about who your ancestors were but it’s typically in broad terms. Names, places, occupations, mostly.
It all finally roosts in me as a reminder to not take things for granted, whether it’s success, health, family, or your government. Nothing really lasts forever. Worse, the ending can come without much warning. As in so many other matters, it’s something which I learned before, and then forgot.
This Facebook post simply breaks my heart. More, reading this post reminds me that any team and nation is only as strong as its weakest link. Our nation, through the actions of Donald Trump and the right-wing machine, is systemically and deliberately weakening my nation. It’s an affront to me as a person who served this nation in the military for over twenty years.
I hope others will read this and stand against any more of our nation’s backward stance before it’s too late for us.
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I have been placed on administrative leave, effective tomorrow, pending separation.
In my last official act, I was able to pin medals on three of my folks. The last salute broke my heart in two and the tears flowed freely even as I have so much to be thankful for and so many amazing memories.
There are two moments that bookend my authentic service that will stay with me always.
The first was in 2016, the day the Secretary of Defense announced that transgender individuals could serve openly. That very day, I came out to my teammates. After sending the email, I left for the gym to burn off the nervous energy, uncertain of how life might change. When I returned, one by one, my teammates came to my desk, shook my hand, and said versions of, “It’s an honor to serve with you.”
The second came just last week at my final 1-star level sync with the Joint Staff. I provided one brief update and then shared that it was my final meeting and because it was an unplanned departure we’d have to figure out my replacement soon. The colonel next to me asked where I was going. I let him know that I didn’t meet the current standard for “Military Excellence and Readiness” and would be departing on administrative leave.
There was a moment of silence before reality settled in. Then, one-by-one, a room full of senior leaders, admirals and generals, walked over to me and the scene from 2016 repeated. They offered those same words, now tinged with the sadness of past tense: “It’s been an honor to serve with you.”
Both times, I walked away with tears in my eyes. It wasn’t from sadness, but because everyone had it backwards: it has been my honor to serve with all of them.
While my time in uniform is ending far earlier than I had hoped, rather than grieving what has been lost I am choosing to focus on all I have gained.
What I gained, most unexpectedly, was a family. A team that stood by me through life’s most difficult trials. From the loss of a child and another who fought for life after being born 12 weeks early, to a cancer diagnosis and life-threatening surgery, to the circumstances leading to my separation today, they were there. They offered encouragement, extended their hands, shared their love, and showed the kind of care that can only be forged through shared service. I will never forget the countless times they lifted me up. My hope is that I was able to offer that same support in return.
This chapter may be ending, but I leave far richer for having gone on this grand adventure.
I will miss the mission deeply, but I will miss those I have served with even more than I can put into words.
It has been the honor of a lifetime to serve this nation and defend the freedoms and opportunities we have as Americans. My wildest dreams came true wearing this uniform.
Bree Fram
Saturda, June 7, 2025, has fallen upon us splay-legged with sunshine and muggy with clouds. 84 is Ashlandia’s rough temperature, depending on where you stand. It’s cooler by the creek in the park in the old trees’ shade. Today’s high will be in the low 90s, beginning a string of days with highs in the 90s. Looks like summer is doing a temperature check preparatory to taking the stage.
My wife remarked today, “How long will it be until some U.S. citizen will challenge a masked ICE gunman and get shot?” She thinks we’re due for another Kent State moment, when Ohio National Guard killed four demonstrators in the early 1970s. I agree with her point. Any time we have armed people being pressured by resistance, the chance for violence goes up. Wonder what oddsmakers are saying about it? I hope my wife’s fortune telling is wrong.
Today’s song come about from broodling — that is, brooding and noodling — about another novel underway. Sipping the first dark brown hot fluid this morning, I thought, “You gotta find a way for what you want to say.” I answered myself, “Yes, but do you know what you want to say?”
Bored with the exchange, The Neurons unleashed Oasis and their 1994 song, “Supersonic”, into the morning mental music stream. I recognized that they did it because there is a line which goes something like my thoughts. I didn’t do much more thinking about it at that point because Papi was urgently wrapping himself around my legs while purring like an old VW Beetle. I fed him and then he and I hit the backyard sunshine to take the day’s measure for a few minutes.
Stay safe and have the most solid day you can develop. Me, I’m in for more writing, more yardwork, more reading. It’s a rough life but it’s where I landed. Cheers
I approached a tall and ancient tree wrapped in silvery fog. I had an impression that I’d been climbing for some time as I felt bone weary with effort. The foggy air had me shivering in the dream, but I think it was also nervousness. Stopping in front of the tree, I stared at the rough blackened gray bark. Slowly a face rose into the gnarly surface. Eyes opening, they moved around several moments before finding me. With unrelenting attention given to me, the face separated from the tree and slowly floated up into the sky. As it did, I found that the fog was gone. I watched the face floating away until it could no longer be seen, and I was alone with the tree, surrounded by a clear blue sky.
Michael Seidel, writer 