Veteran's Day is such a welcome break on social media. Universal praise for one day. No complaints about traffic, the kids or the weather. It would be disrespectful to complain on the day we honor men and women who have seen horrors we can only imagine. Many still trying to forget those memories, while we try and remember where our keys are. For one day in November, we honor those who have earned the right to complain and usually don't.
An old man stands in an outdated uniform. The bugle sounds and he barely hears it. Shots fired, symbolic acts, that ironically send some scurrying. The politics of war is so common, yet on this day, we avoid talking about the politics. We simply honor the men and women who courageously defended our freedom. How will we honor these men fighting today? Neither defending our freedom or protecting us in many ways. Bringing democracy or some form of it, to lands that have no use for our brand. Our war on terror seems almost comical, when every fear I have is right here at home, by businesses, banks and food commissions. Where are our soldiers for this?
Then of course there is our favorite pastime, never seeming to be affected by the horrors of the world. Social Media. The irony of seeing my friends post pictures of their fathers and grandfathers, yet voting for the people who have cut their benefits and who, had they been born ten years earlier would have sent their kids to war. Calling themselves patriots, as they pull the red lever, casting a vote for the men and women who keep one of seven homeless from what they deserve. Yes, one in seven homeless adults in this country are vets. Staggering to think. Then there are the liberals who praise their fathers and grandfathers, so proud of those who answered the call of war, but can't brave a windy day to vote for their support.
And then there is the mirror I must look in. Someone who doesn't understand war. Doesn't understand the pride. Doesn't understand the killing, the senseless killing. Young boys, men, fighting a battle against something the don't understand. Being taught that the enemy is evil, that killing them is protecting their loved ones, but then must return to a country that embraces those same people. The confusion must be awful. The sounds of mortars and bullets, replaced by the fireworks and horns. I worry about one of the people I care about most in this world. Chosen a life, now twice, that I will never fully comprehend. Sacrifices I'd never make. For my family, yes, but not for some figment of my imagination called pride. Pride is seeing a child grow into man, then a father, then a grandfather. Pride is not visiting someone in a hospital or telling them the noises are just a celebration.
I thank every veteran who has given a part of their lives, themselves and given so much up to create what we have. I respect the choices of those who continue to do so. I just wish we, the ones who praise them, realized that praise doesn't put food on their tables, clothes on their backs or roofs over their heads. I just wish we showed them this much respect when we defended those who have done nothing to help them, including the military. It's time these men and women, all of them, were treated with the same respect the other 364 days of the year, as they are on Veteran's Day.
Comments
Post a Comment