Flying away on a wing and a prayer, who could it be? Believe it or not it's just me.

Spiders. I hate spiders. I know. I know. They play an important role in the grand scheme of things in the insect world. But I still don't care for them. And tonight one of them decided to try to take up residence in my house. So I did the thing that any self-respecting arachnophobe would do. I went to find something with a very long handle to kill it. After all, I've seen all of the things spiders can do. They can jump long distances, wrap you up quickly in a web, and hang you from the support beams in the basement. They can even, when given a significant dose of radiation turn you into someone with great responsibility. But, since I have no plutonium around the house, thereby reducing my chance to be a superhero, I was forced to take military action. So when I returned with a broom, never once taking my eyes off the eight-legged freak, I began my assault only to see that, from out of nowhere (they are sneaky that way) his twin brother showed up and began to aggressively charge me. Fortunately my aim with the broom was spot on as my arial assault on this rapidly growing arachnid army was successful. Kevin-2. Spiders-0. 

This was once not an issue with me. I had a way of dealing with my dislike (slowly evolving into fear) of spiders. I would simply call my wife in to deal with it. After all, ladies are sweet so the spider would never think she would intend harm to their spider bodies. It was my own sneak attack. At least that's how I justified calling my wife in to deal with something I didn't want to handle. When it came to spiders, my wife was my hero. When it came to many things in my life, and the lives of many others, she was a hero. 

This weekend I helped millions of others set a record at the box office by going to watch American Sniper. An excellent movie. Very patriotic and yet it gave the viewer a glimpse into what our soldiers have to face. Chris Kyle was a true hero to millions. Still is. And to no one more than his family. His wife. 

My wife will never have a movie made about her life (but if she did I would expect Sandra Bullock would be terrific playing that role - and I'll happily play myself). Regardless, she is still a hero. So many of my brothers and sisters on this road of grief feel the same about their own dearly departed. June was a hero to Jim among others. Bradford was a hero to his Brittany and his family and friends. Abigail was a hero to her mom and my friend JoJo as well as her brothers and sister. Holly was a hero to her mom and dad and all of her school and church friends. Eric was a hero to his mom, dad, and sister. My daughter was a hero to my wife and I and so many others. You can insert the name of your hero here too. And you can be sure that there will probably not be movies made about them either. But they are, nonetheless, heroes just the same. 

When American Sniper leaves the theaters and hits the shelves in DVD format the hero recognition will swell again. But afterwards, when we are all going about our own lives, we will probably seldom think of this military hero. But his wife will think about him every day. All day. He will always be in her thoughts. Just a breath away. 

For those of us who have lost our heroes they will always be in our thoughts. Days, weeks, months and even years later. And when you think about Wanda, Beth, June, Bradford, Abigail, Holly, Eric, or anyone else that you can think of that your friend lost, you can be sure that that heroes' spouse or parent or even sibling has thought about them a million times more. When you wake in the morning from a dream that makes you think of him, recognize that his wife went to sleep with him in her thoughts, woke up that way, and thought about him several times before you even brushed your teeth. 

So, how would you like to be our hero for a little while? You can. Let us know when you've been thinking about our loved one. It sure helps to know that they live on in your memory as well. And don't think for a moment that by mentioning them to us that you are going to hurt us. We may cry (if you know me at all you can be sure I will), but it isn't like we forgot the loss of our hero. They were only a breath away. 

Anonymity

“Anonymity makes heroes of us all. “ – Anonymous. The above is not really a quote by anonymous or anyone else less famous. I made it up myself. It should be a famous quote though, because it rings with truth. And nowhere is this more obvious than at the many online forums. A few months ago the Hattiesburg American changed its policy of who could comment on an article. The rules were simple. Simply sign on using your Facebook account. Anyone can get a Facebook account. It costs nothing to register. You are already online if you were a habitual commenter anyway, what’s another step? I have noticed that the comments in the online forums have drastically declined in number since the new policy was adopted. The only thing that I can attribute it to is the lack of anonymity. In the past you simply signed in using your clever “handle” and commented to your heart’s content. Then, as long as your comment followed the guidelines, you posted your brilliance (or ignorance), for the entire world to see. “We can all be brave behind the mask of anonymity.” – Anonymous. Yeah, I made that one up as well. It is easy for us to make comments when our picture isn’t in the paper and people don’t know where we work or live. While I miss reading the comments on the variety of topics found in the opinion section, I do like the new format. Why not put a face to your comments? Why not show the world who you are when you disagree? Recent political debates have allowed us to see the candidates for who they really are. I believe, and I am probably showing my ignorance here for all to see, that none of the candidates are as good or as bad as they are made to seem during these debates. However, good or bad, all of their statements are very public. A politician has to have thick skin to handle the “slings and arrows” of the opposition. I, the hidden forum commenter, can say what I want behind the relative safety of my computer screens. Hardly seems fair. In the comic books I read as a child, as well as some of the graphic novels I read on occasion now, the superhero usually wears a mask. Some sort of disguise. When you think about it, maybe the real superheroes are the ones without the masks. “Don’t be afraid to show people the face behind your comments, even if you live to regret them later.” – Kevin Harrison.