Wednesday 11/11/2009 Veterans

Today is the day we set aside to honor those who have fought for our freedom. I wish this day was more celebrated and offered more recognition for our veterans.

My dad was in Korea. I’m not sure if it’s appropriate to say he fought in Korea. He worked on Aircraft and was in a dangerous area. My dad has not shared many “war” stories with me. Is it because he can’t? Are there things he shouldn’t share with his youngest child? Or is it simply that I have never asked or give any indication that I am interested? I do know there are the infamous Korea slides… holy moley! My dad took pictures of everything… some are so beautiful and belong in a gallery. The old Kodacrome slide colors are a sight to behold. Many of the photos are of the countryside and its people. As a kid, the slides were boring and almost punishment. My dad would talk about each slide and give detail about the day the picture was taken. As an adult, I was the keeper of the slides for a number of years and wish with all my heart I had paid attention and could re-tell those stories. There is one photo of a mother with her children. They appear in clothing of workers. The mother is beautiful but shows all the struggles of the time in her face. She is holding a baby. The baby is naked. There are 2 children standing at her side. On its face, the photo is a masterpiece. Ahh but that’s to the normal mind. I however do not possess a normal mind. When I first noticed it, it may have been the 20th time I saw that slide. We were at my grandparent’s home. I was sitting near my grandma. Grandma has suffered many mini-strokes and was no longer verbal but she was oh so mentally sharp. The slide came up on the screen. At first I thought I was crazy. But no. This beautiful Korea woman held her naked child with one arm. In essence the baby was sitting with its bottom in her palm, tucked up against the inside of her arm. Most unfortunately for my strange mind, the woman’s middle finger was protruding out between the baby’s legs giving the unintended image of a well endowed, highly…excited male. As terrible as it is for me to admit, I was hysterical laughing. No one else understood what I was laughing at...except my non-verbal grandmother. She saw it too and was laughing so hard tears were rolling down her cheeks. I relish this memory of her and it is amazingly special. I remember taking her hand and asking her if she was laughing at the “finger”. She looked deep in my eyes and very slightly raised an eyebrow and I knew. I often dream of that moment when we last connected. I feel so blessed to have had that fabulous laugh and moment with her. So that is how I view my dad’s military service. I know I am short changing the great work I am sure he did and the contribution to the… conflict that he made.

I have cousins, friends and colleagues who have served in various capacities in the military. I would love to hear their stories. I’d love to know just how to support them when they are active or retired. Is it appropriate to ask questions about their deployment or service? If not, why not? I think it would be hard to share the stories. But have learned that sharing stories is very freeing.

I remember a family friend being sent to Viet Nam. I must have been in 3rd or 4th grade. I just remember thinking that I would never see him again. Unlike any war or conflict before, we watched all the devastation every night on the news. I heard but didn’t clearly understand what it all meant but I knew it meant great people were dying every day. Oh my, too many great people were dying every day. My generation was the first to have the war in our living rooms every evening. So I was conditioned to think young men, boys really didn’t come home. On the slim chance they came home… they came home very different than when they left. I cannot adequately describe the jubilation I felt walking in to my house to find our family friend sitting on the couch. He was alive and physically whole. I cannot say how the experience affected his mental state. I didn’t ask. I remember going to bed that night and crying. I don’t remember if it was out of happiness or sadness. Happy because he came back, sad because in the new era of television it was all too clear to me as a child, that many, many families would not be welcoming their friend home from Viet Nam.

I’ve been so fortunate to have met so many wonderful men and women who have served our country. Some have served in active combat, some as peripheral soldiers. All deserve the utmost respect and our unwavering admiration. I can be reasonably sure that I will never be in active combat in a war. I thank God for that. I could not do what the millions of soldiers throughout the history of our great nation have done. But I know with all my heart that I could not do all the wonderful things I have been able to do in my life without the contribution of every single person who has served. A thank you seems so small. Small but many times, not offered as it should.

So to you who have served, thank you. I am an American and proud of my country. My country, that is as free as it can be, because of the hard work, dedication, passion, love and lives of those who have served. May God richly bless you. May I learn in my lifetime how to honor you and fully cherished all you have done for me. I know if I can make just one veteran understand my gratitude it will be a small but powerful gesture.

I hope so…