Like the great majority of the American population, I have no one in my family who died in military service. Generations of my ancestors served in conflicts from the Civil War to World War II, but no one died in combat. Five years ago I knew only one man who had been killed in Vietnam. The grief of war was an abstract thing to me. I understood Memorial Day, meaning I knew the difference between it and Veterans Day and the Fourth of July, but it still felt like a day of observance that belonged to other people. (more…)
A few years ago, Mark and I were sitting with a friend in a Panera restaurant having coffee and talking. Suddenly a man I call the Panera Stranger thrust his hand at Mark and said, “Thank you for your service!” Mark mumbled something, I was paralyzed, and we were all – including, most likely, the Stranger, left feeling awkward and uncomfortable. (more…)
I found this, “How To Listen To Me, a Veteran,” on the website of the Office of Veterans and Military Personnel at Indiana University-Purdue University, Indianapolis and found it quite useful, not just for listening to veterans but for listening to anyone who has a difficult story to tell. Some of his points challenge the assumptions of a culture all-too-given to lionizing anything military while at the same time not taking the time to listen to what they say.
His point of view merits discussion. This, for instance: “If you make the offer to listen to me though, you had better mean it. You had better mean that you will sit with me and listen till I am done telling, not until you are bored or uncomfortable. Make the offer to listen to me, and then be prepared in case I decide you are the right person to tell my story to.” Those sentences alone are worth separate discussion and he has many of them. Respond in the comments, if you will. (more…)
It is the day between Good Friday and Easter Sunday, a strange day, liminal time. It was always hard for me to know how to feel on this day. Ever practical, I would be properly solemn on Good Friday but on Saturday I would say I knew how this story turned out and there were things to be done – eggs to be dyed and braided bread to be baked and, in the time when I was going to church, candles and lilies to be arranged and potted flowers to be put out for the children. (more…)
Yesterday I wrote in Point of View that connection is an act of peacemaking, that connection subverts the forces of war. Today I listened to Sebastian Junger speak about Why Soldiers Miss War. What he says in that talk calls my conclusion into question, or at least betrays it as the wistfulness of a civilian.
That soldiers miss war puzzles most of us who want nothing to do with it. I am uncomfortable still when Mark tells me that he misses the war. I accept it. On some level I think I “get” it – he misses the excitement, the sense of competency, the pride in doing a miserable job that no one in “the world” wants to do. (more…)
The harvest moon hangs behind dark clouds. Energy withdraws from the vine and pours into the fruit. Color explodes and then fades. Persephone goes to the Underworld. (more…)