Love the Warrior

As a liberal, I naturally hate the idea of war.   I don't think it's just a liberal thing - if you ask most people - they will tell you that war is a bad thing.    Politicians will tell you that they use it as a last resort when all other diplomatic means break down and if there is an immediate threat to the safety of innocent people.  Force must be used to maintain the order.  However, you would have to wonder how quickly those same politicians would go to war if they had to fight it themselves or if their own children were immediately going to be on the front lines - then it seems like restraint would rule the day.   In a perfect world, war would be nonexistent.    Peace would be the reigning principal and the world leaders would work to uphold that ideal.  Unfortunately this is not a perfect world - not by a long shot.   According to the GlobalSecurity.org - there are over 42 armed conflicts or wars around the world and the US is involved in four of them in places like Iraq, Iran, the Philippines, and Djibouti.   But this blog is not about discussing the political fall-out of war.  It's about appreciating those men and women who serve because it's their sense of duty and honor to do so.   

My father served in the army in the 179th Signal Repair Company in World War II.   He was in Normandy, Northern France, Rhineland, Ardennes, and Central Europe.   He was lucky enough not to see any direct combat, but I'm sure there were people that he knew in boot camp or even in his hometown of Lexington, MA who went to war and never came back.  He would talk about being in France and learning to speak French pretty fluently.  He talked about giving a shipment of wool sweaters to the people on the French countryside who were cold and didn't have enough clothes to keep them warm.   The soldiers passed out the sweaters and blankets out to a very grateful village.  He'd smile when he thought about that - soldiers being good will ambassadors instead of warriors.   There were also the humorous stories about soldiers trying to mail back a whole jeep back home which was amusing but you would think the supply sergeant would notice after a while.   If my dad had a really bad experience during the war, he never let on.   From what I understand, he got out relatively unscathed physically and emotionally, but others were not so lucky.   Max's dad, George, saw combat -  really bad things that forever scar the soul.  Friends and commades being blown to bits.   When he lived with us, he'd talk about the war.  There was no romance just sadness.    He prayed that Max would never experience the same thing.   But at least when both my dad and Max's dad came home, they were treated like heroes and got a chance to go to college on the GI bill which is how my father met my mother.    Back then, we did the right thing for the greatest generation.  

When I was a young girl growing up in the late 60's and early 70's, the Vietnam war was as close as your TV screen.  I remember seeing it on the 6:00 p.m. news while we all sat around eating our sausage noodle casserole.   It was violent, gritty and very scary.  I remember my mother being afraid that my brothers would be drafted and saying that she would take them to Canada if they were.   My father would voice an objection or two, but in his heart of hearts, didn't want his boys over there.   It must have been hard trying to reconcile his sense of patriotism and still see the war we were embroiled in as being so wrong and not wanting your sons to have any part of it.   My sister Kathy demonstrated against it and was very vocal about her opposition.   For me at six or seven, it seemed like anyone who went to the war would be killed and the thought of my teenage brothers going over there terrified me.   What were the adults thinking?  Sending people off to a foreign place to kill other people never made sense to me but then war never does - it doesn't matter what age you are. 

When those Vietnam vets came home, they were treated so shamelessly.  They were called baby killers, spit on, and generally humiliated because it was such an unpopular war.   They didn't get the applause at airports that our soldiers do now (thanks to the realization of how badly we treated the Vietnam vets).   Again, I was a little kid and confused by the fact that those men could have been my brothers and yet they were being treated like criminals just for doing what the government had asked them to do.    Most of these guys were not enlisted, they were drafted - they had to serve whether they wanted to or not.   After giving what they could to this country - how did we repay them?  By shunning them because we couldn't admit that the US had lost a war and it wasn't their fault.  No wonder the Vietnam vets had the mental health problems they did - you sacrifice your youth and vigor to be treated like an outcast?   It took decades before they finally got the help they needed from the VA hospitals. 

The Vietnam Memorial has the names of the 60,000 men and women who lost their lives in that conflict and it's a shiny black marble so that you can see yourself in the names of the those that have fallen.   It's a chilling reminder about the human cost of war.  Too often, we just get the numbers, the billions of dollars that it costs but seeing the names of 60,000 people cut down in their prime is awe inspiring and sad.   They were like us - with hopes and dreams and we didn't love them enough when they came home from that horrible war.  They ended up broken.  Every member of Congress should be required to go there, see it and talk to the families of the fallen before they can even think of declaring an act of violence like war.   They need to listen to a heartbroken mother and say "Dammit there has got to be a better way - our soldiers don't need a war to prove themselves!"

Wars are mostly about land, political or religious extremism.  Most of the time it's about all three.   We call upon our warriors to fight the good fight that we can't do ourselves.   They become symbols for our freedom.    But they are more than just symbols, they are sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, cousins, teachers and friends.   They have people that they love dearly and that dearly love them and both sides of the equation are losing sleep worrying about each other and all the milestones they are missing - the birth of a new child, birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, school plays, championship games, etc.    While we sit down bitching about the economy and which political party is right - they are over there hoping they'll be back safely to witness that next milestone.    They truly live their lives from day to day and we often don't give them much thought if you are not friends or a relative of a person in the service.    It takes Memorial Day or Vetern's Day or a holiday like Thanksgiving or Christmas for us to really think about letting them know how we feel to send them letters of support or CARE packages.   Is it that we're ungrateful?  Maybe, but I think it's more than that for those outside the realm of military service.  We can't comtemplate the sacrifice and it's just too overwhelming to think about so it's easier to not think about it at all - to not thank a serviceman when we see them in uniform when they come home for leave.   But it's important to acknowledge that sacrifice - to acknowledge the emotion.  A soldier surprising their child at school to see their play when that little one thought their mom or dad was 5,000 miles away and seeing the looks on both of their faces as they hold each other tight is enough to make even the bravest general wipe a tear.   We take those moments for granted but a soldier just can't - they are too precious.    Everyone has an opinion on whether we are right or wrong to get involved in our present conflicts - that is the complicated part.   But we can agree on one simple thing: you don't have to love the war, you just need to love the warrior.  

Thanksgiving Lost and Found

I was just recovering from a fun Halloween with the kids and an evening of way too many Reese's peanut butter cups when my Outlook reminded me of a tree lighting the next day.  After 8:00 p.m. the door bell ringing got lighter and lighter as the trick or treaters were getting ready for bed because it was a school night.   All that Hallows eve on TV there were references to the spooky holiday.  Then the inevitable happened:  a new slew of Christmas commercials started running around 9:00 p.m. before Halloween's body was even cold (okay, granted I had tombstones on my yard, and a fake dead body that was parked next to the one that said, "I'll be back).  This grand rush to Christmas seemed to be a bit premature and annoying.  The next night, I was watching an 18 foot Christmas tree get it's first lighting to great fan fare for an event at work.  It looked beautiful and put everyone into the Christmas spirit, but what about Thanksgiving? Didn't anyone care about that holiday anymore?  I mean it's two and a half weeks away!

You hardly see commercials for Thanksgiving anymore.  Maybe that's because the industry that profits the most from it are the supermarkets - not departments stores, not toy stores, not computer stores and not car dealers.  Thanksgiving is all about food and football.  Who really needs to think about preparing the feast aside from the holiday martyrs (moms, sisters and grandparents) that volunteer to have the dinner at their house?   Thanksgiving is not about anything material - it's about being with the people you love or at least have to stomach one or twice a year to keep the family peace.   Besides, the next day is Black Friday - the greatest shopping day of the year.  Thanksgiving has now become a speed bump between Halloween and Christmas.  

Unfortunately, I think the act of giving thanks has been lost along the internet highway.  As our society has gotten more tech savvy and let's face it - more snarky - it's not cool to think about all the gifts you have and to be grateful for them.  It's easier to hide behind a laptop and send instant messages rather than talk to someone directly to hear their voice and really gauge how they're doing. It's so much easier to make snide comments on YouTube  anonymously about Lindsay Lohan or Kim Kardashian's 72-day marriage rather than praising your spouse and children for sticking it out with you.  You can share a link to a pithy saying on Facebook rather than just taking the time to actually thank the people who need thanking.   You see and hear folks being rude to each other on TV on a regular basis and unfortunately our kids are beginning to model it themselves based on the diva fits they see on Real Housewives and other reality shows.   But few programs show people taking someone's hand, looking into their eyes and just telling them how much it means to have them in their lives and making it look cool. 

I began to believe that we had lost the art of being grateful.   It's not easy to  say a heartfelt thanks to those that help us rather then just assuming that they know how we feel.   So we numb ourselves into silence hoping that we'll get appreciated without taking the step of showing it first.    So I began to wonder if with all the bad economic news, the political backbiting and negative media stories, was the United States losing it's optimism?  Were we becoming the snarkiest country on earth - unable to appreciate even the smallest things?  I was wondering if I had lost that ability myself as I struggled to deal with a recent job loss and now know first hand the anxiety that many Americans feel in this questionable job market.   

I was driving into work on my last day and listening to the Bert Show on Q100.  They had recently completed Bert's Big Thank You and had asked their listeners to hand write letters to thank every soldier serving overseas for their service so that they would know that someone took the time to tell them how much they cared.  Amber and I had done some letters through our church.  The drive had been iffy - they needed over 400,000 letters and just a week out from the deadline only had 40,000 - but human nature being what it is, a slew of letters came in that last push and they had actually received over a half a million.  Now that they had the letters, they needed volunteers to help sort them out.   Realizing that after today, I'd probably have some time on my hands, I signed up to help. 

I went to the radio station and was brought to a large room with hundreds of mail tubs full of letters.  They asked us to take a tub, count by sets of 100, and spot check the letters to make sure they were appropriate, i.e., were not greeting cards that someone had just signed, pictures without any writing on it or had anything political or inappropriate.   As I combed through my large mail tub, I saw stacks and stacks of letters from people in Atlanta, Indianapolis and Nashville - the three markets that the Bert Show presently reaches.  They were on notebook paper, construction paper, personal stationary, artwork with a note inside, etc.  A lot of the letters were from kids who expressed how proud they were of the soldiers who were helping other children overseas.  There were letters from retirement homes that expressed support as many of the residents had served in WWII and the Korean War and knew what it was like to be far away from their own families for the holidays.  Letters from mothers who prayed for the soldiers safe return to their mothers, wives and children.   Many expressed in simple terms their gratitude for the service that these brave men and women were giving to our country.   It was inspiring and humbling to see so many people pour out their hearts to these strangers - praying for them and knowing that on Thanksgiving a soldier they wrote to would read their words of love and support.   

I also loved the artwork that some of the people included in their letters.   There were a lot of drawings made by tracing a little hand and coloring it to look like a Thanksgiving turkey complete with pilgrim hat.   There were letters with kids dressed as Harry Potter who represented the soldiers and a picture of Valdemort who represented the people we were fighting.   There were also pictures of the children holding the soldiers' hands and smiling.  Perhaps the one that touched me the most, was a picture that a teenage girl who was an art student drew on the back of her letter.   It's of her giving a soldier a hug.   Her notation on the back reads:  "not finished yet, but you get it :).  Me being thankful for the soldiers."   I love the expression on their faces - it's so genuine - something Norman Rockwell would be proud of. 

I left that day feeling very proud of the people who had written those letters and of helping to sort them so that they could go overseas in time for Thanksgiving.   It seems that Americans do what we've always done:  listen for an appeal on a way to make the world better and respond the best way we can.   Do we still have problems in this country?  Hell ya, but what country doesn't?  Instead of each political party vilifying each other, let's appreciate what we have here, which is that we can talk about what's wrong with the government without being hulled into prison for having that conversation. We can be grateful that our daughters can aspire to be Secretary of State or President instead of treated like second class citizens in countries where many of our soldiers are based.  In short, I got my Thanksgiving spirit back.   

I'm grateful for what I have and plan to play that forward.   Sure my job future is uncertain, but I'm trying to look at it as a chance to reinvent myself and when I apply for a job - that is one more opportunity that I didn't know about yesterday.   If I see a serviceman in uniform, I'm going to thank them for their service to our country.   It's all any of us could do no matter which side of the political aisle you sit on.  You can hate the war, but love the warrior.  Probably the best line I saw all from those stacks of letters  was from a teenager who wrote, "Heroes don't wear capes, they wear dog tags."  That's a great line - it made me realize how much people care and for that I'm grateful -- very, very grateful.