The Lens;
One of my cousins contacted my recently. He shared with me some information about my father I did not know.
Dad served in the Korean conflict. Dad never talked about his time in the army. I think he shared only one story with me and it wasn’t a fond memory. About the only other thing I knew was, as a Spanish-English bilingual, he acted as a translator. I rarely thought about Dad’s service.
Dad was quite kind and giving but he could also be quite tough to live with. I knew Dad was young when he served and occasionally I would have a passing thought that maybe his time in war had affected him. It was several years ago when I read an article about PTSD and the affect it had on men in wars before anyone knew what it was. Shell-shock was probably the PTSD of their day. That is when it occurred to me that this might explain Dad’s moods.
We were a family of 4 daughters. There was so much feminine vibe in our house, Dad was thrilled when we got a male dog.
My cousin’s father was career military. He was stationed around the world, so my cousins moved about. My uncle also served in several wars, including Vietnam. During his tours of duty in Vietnam, my aunt and cousins (two girls and one boy – the one who contacted me) lived with us.
They also had shorter stays with us when my uncle was between transfers. There were anywhere from 8 to 10 of us living in what was originally a two-bedroom home. We added one room before the first stay and a second somewhere down the line. It was still crowded but we thought it was fun.
I think for my dad, in particular, these were good times. My dad was now completely overrun with females but he also had my cousin, the son I think he always wanted. Apparently, Dad shared quite a bit more about his time in Korea with my cousin than with me – maybe because he was a boy or maybe because, as a military child, he probably understood the life.
Seems Dad was in combat and was awarded the Combat Infantryman Badge. I had some of Dad’s medals, but this was not among them. Also, according to my cousin, Dad was at Old Baldy. I had never heard of Old Baldy let alone known Dad was there.
The Refraction:
You see the smile that’s on my mouth
It’s hiding the words that don’t come out
And all of my friends who think that I’m blessed
They don’t know my head is a mess
No, they don’t know who I really am
And they don’t know what
I’ve been through like you do
“The Story” Brandi Carlile
We think we know people. I think we would be shocked at how little we know one another – the secrets we keep: for privacy, protection, self-preservation. My Dad was my Dad. I had him for nearly 30 years of my life. And, I can see there was so much I didn’t know about him.
I am reminded of someone close to me. We all get caught up in our lives, especially when our children are young. We don’t keep in touch as much as we would like, but we keep the ties together. There came a time with this person when answers to unimportant emails/text stopped. I suspected something was wrong. I talked to a mutual friend and she agreed something was off. We tried to gently, unobtrusively reach out with no response.
Months later, she finally opened up. There were scant few of us who knew what was happening. As the holidays approached, she decided to order one of those premade dinners for her family. Someone else we knew, who was not privy to the situation, made a rather snippy remark – Why doesn’t she just cook?
That made me mad, but I held my tongue. It wasn’t my place to explain. And, this person didn’t know what our friend was going through. If you only knew, was all I could think.
if you only knew – the illumination. Think about someone you knew (or know) who was going through a rough time. I can think of countless people who suffered through some adversity. You reach out, you do what you can to support them. You also cut them slack where you might not have otherwise.
But, what about the person who keeps their troubles to themselves? How can we reach out, be supportive, understand the need to cut some slack, when we don’t know?
The answer is kindness, compassion. This was not the only time in my life when I was one of a very few people to know of a someone’s private struggle. I wonder how many other times I have interacted with people who seemed just fine, but were being torn apart inside. Or, maybe weren’t themselves and I showed little compassion because I didn’t know of their struggles.
As I have mentioned, a guilty pleasure of mine are advice columns. In “Go All the Way,” I mentioned my disdain for the letters from people telling others not to get upset over their partner or spouse’s faults. One day they will be dead and you will miss to your very core that annoying habit of theirs.
I agree marriages would be far better off if we stopped sweating the small stuff. Indeed, the world would be better off if we just could adopt kindness over hostility. But, we can’t forget we are human. We will never be perfect. We need to dismiss the idea that we can always look beyond everyone’s faults. We get annoyed. And, of course, we have our own faults and bad days.
Still, we all have the ability to be kinder and more compassionate. We have the ability to let things roll off our shoulder. We have the ability to shake off feeling aggrieved at a perceived slight. We can wonder instead if the offender is just having a bad day and not a complete jerk. Or, we can just simply not sweat it.
Ok. So we can’t do it every time. We are human, after all. But, we can do it more often. And, if the person really is a jerk? Maybe taking the high road and answering rudeness with kindness will rub off. You never know.