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21st Annual Houston National Invitational

 Alex did well. The top 12 kids in each event medaled. Six events. He got 4 medals. He didn’t place really high in any of the events (he didn’t make the podium), but he was consistent enough to medal in the all-around. His team scored first overall! A bunch of happy kids (And proud families.) Alex – Houston – Parallel Bars Alex – Houston – Vault Alex – Houston – Rings Alex – Houston – Pommel Alex – Houston – Floor Alex – Houston – High Bar 
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Road Trip!

 We headed off to Houston.  Not a relocation; just a car/hotel trip for a couple days.  We picked up Matt, Lindsay, and Alex at the airport tonight.  Gymnastics competition starts early tomorrow morning.  We drive home on Sunday. We’ll report back.  
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Lucky for me

 I came home from overseas to Judy.  We have talked about anything and everything; at least as much as I’ve been able to say out loud; for 50 years.  We get each other through. And you know what else?  Writing this trip report is therapy.  If I have something that is troubling me all I have to do is write about it and I get powerful responses.  (I am overwhelmed by the responses I’ve gotten from my post about Viet Nam.) I already have a support group (and it consists of you on this list)!  It meets daily.  Nothing much to say; that’s okay.  Got something difficult to share; let’s get it out there and kick it around.  I’ve been going to this virtual support group for years now.  Sometimes I think I’m writing about me and it turns out I’m writing about a lot of us.  Stories resonate with different people each time, but we’re all involved one way or another.  It’s a small world and a moment in time.  We’re all in it together; thank you.  
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I just don’t get it

 The 35mm slide photos I took in Vietnam have been in their boxes untouched for 50 years.  I decided it was time to have a look at them.  Not good.  I lasted about a minute before we decided to slip them back in their boxes and put them away. I just don’t get it.  I had some difficult times in Vietnam, but nothing specific that I’m aware of, that would trigger the reaction I get any time I think about or try to talk about my experiences.  I’m surprised that I’m so sensitive about it now.  We all have sadness somewhere in our lives.  We all have to deal with it.  It frustrates me that I need to keep this so far away. Maybe it’s not so much about what happened or didn’t happen.  We were not in nonstop combat.  There were times we weren’t *supposed* to be in the line of fire.  But it was such a head-game to get through every day and night; to be ready for violence at any moment; maybe living the year of anticipation took its toll; left its mark.  Maybe it wasn’t the violence as much as the readiness for violence; the certainty of violence. I’ve made efforts to talk about that year.  Generally, I don’t get very far before I suddenly realize there is something in the other room demanding my immediate attention.  Maybe it’s time to stop and deal with it.  I could man-up and quit pushing it away.  I could face it head-on; push through these silly human emotions and talk until there is nothing else to say. Or maybe I’ll just wait another 50 years before I try looking at the slides again.