Honoring the Remembering

Today,

in honor and memory of those who went and didn’t come back,

and for those who mourn them and remain behind,

for those who went and came back never to be the same,

for those that live with them forever changed…

we remember.

At our house, it was a somber and quiet moment this morning as we watched and listened to the bugle call. Tears rolled down my face as the cameras showed one veteran after another during the minutes of utter silence amongst the large crowd in Ottawa on television. We watched the Silver Cross Mother lay the wreath, struggling for control, remembering her son, and all the other sons who are gone.
I thought of her, of the other mothers…

I know of a friend, a veteran, who is avoiding television this week…a week when there are retrospectives about those who fought, outlining the courage of soldiers and the horrors of war. Although he respects and honors those who fought for freedom, he dares not allow the fragile present be shattered by vivid images of the past which will trigger the horrible memories. He will go to extremes to avoid re-experiencing the jarring hijacking of his body of gripping terror and feelings of imminent doom. He will remember, but will tread carefully amongst the land mines of memories to remember the fallen without letting himself fall back in the pit of PTSD devastation.

It is hard for many who have seen combat to figure out how to fit back into “this world”…and historically, many have found their “safe place” at the legion, having a pint (or more) with others who were also there, and who also don’t really fit in anymore. Very few speak of their memories and their fears…many numb their memories in a separate part of their psyche…but to hang out with those who get how that sort of repression takes a toll on one’s soul is important.

I’ve known and cried with the daughters and sons of those whose bodies come back from war but their souls are in pieces, and held together by a hard shell that stops tenderness and playful connection. Their father came home…but not in a way that meant that meant they had a “daddy”.

I’ve also had friends who are new Canadians, managing to make it to a new life here after years spent in refugee/resettlement camps. Events like Halloween with the presence of skeletons and “blood and guts” are not fun, but rather terrifying triggers that remind them of the massacres they have witnessed…watching loved ones be killed. Their memories of war are literally unspeakable.

I’ve learned much this last year about honor and desire to serve one’s country, about the dedication and commitment to the high calling of serving one’s country and the global community. Those who could be businessman or tradespeople and come home to their families at 6:00 daily, and instead are willing to be ripped away from their families for months at a time, believing in a nobler, higher calling. I honor those difficult choices. I’ve come to admire those serving in the military in a way I’d never have imagined this last year…and yet I remain torn.

It all feels rather hopeless to a humble Winnipeg therapist…to witness the incredible effects of war on soldiers, victims of war, and casualties of war at home and abroad. Seems there are no true victors in the ravages of violent conflict.

I intentionally look for ways to be a peace maker…to create space and opportunities for others to have increased peace in their lives…combating poverty, interpersonal conflict, oppression and victimization is vital to the idea of “Never Again”… the slogan frequently used to express desire to end the need for war.

It is the oppressed and victims of one generation who often rise up to be the oppressors and victimizers of the next generation.

To that end, I offer up my very humble efforts as my contribution for peace. These pale in comparison to the sacrifices many have paid for peace, but in this stage of life raising my tribe, I work to do small things:

• Staying in tune with world events, receiving emails from ONE.org “ONE is a grassroots campaign of more than 2.5 million people committed to the fight against extreme poverty and preventable diseases.” ONE works to address global inequities, and to raise awareness. I sign petitions requesting debt relief or changes in policy allowing the oppressed opportunities to gain adequate health care, clean water or adequate diet. I’m just one, but I am one…and I can combine with millions of other “ones” to make a difference.
• Sponsoring Louis through World Vision. Louis lives in Haiti. He likes soccer and math, and his best friend is Joribeus. Louis has been a part of our family for about 5 years now. Louis’ life is different because we are a part of it…we partner with his parents to make sure he has what he needs to help him grow up to be a productive and healthy member of society
• Contributing to Siloam Mission by supervising students. They take on projects that the full time staff who work tirelessly can’t get to…the needs are great. Some of the homeless there are veterans, all live in poverty…and taking care of the less fortunate is one way to address injustice which creates the seeds of unrest.
• A commitment to difficult conversations…ones that are uncomfortable, that apologize for when I’ve hurt someone, that work to make strained relationships right. I’ve had a few of these in last weeks in my personal life. I’ve had many challenging and important conversations between clients as husband and wife, mother and son, and others collaborate to improve relationships.
• Anger Management…one at a time, or in small groups…honoring the underlying reasons for anger and providing inspiration and tools for speaking honorably on behalf of anger rather than out of anger…a way of resolving conflict without violence. We provide good quality anger management, and I’m proud of the difference we make in people’s lives.

We are all global citizens…we are all invited to honor those who have paid the price for peace by doing our small part to increase this planet’s potential for harmony.