Veterans Day - 11/11/09. 12 days and blubbering, I mean counting, until Doc. B. returns from Viet Nam. Of all of the days since she’s been gone, this one has been the hardest – because it’s Veterans Day AND it’s the first day since she left that I didn't have the distraction of work AND it’s the first day that I’ve not made plans with anyone. Well, on second thought, I didn’t have to work this past Sunday but I did enjoy bright sunshine and Fat Tire beer at the U-Joint with D and K. Today I haven’t spoken to anyone (Facebook doesn’t count) other than the lady behind the dry cleaning counter. I told her Friday would be perfect for my new Squash Blossom pants to be hemmed. And maybe, since Doc. B. is gone, I’ll wear those new pants with some borrowed engineer boots that are looking grand yet lonely in the upstairs closet – don’t tell! If all of the stars are lined up just right, the only other person I’ll talk to today is Doc. B. – we’re going to see if we can get "Skype" to work!
The cat’s on my lap as I type. He’s been following me around all day wondering when I’m going to make up my mind and stick my butt in one chair. Of course this is long after he spent a good hour wondering when I was going to get up this morning. Apparently 6:30am on a non-work day wasn’t good enough for him. The Decatur Police department could pull a good set of paw prints off the bedroom door if they could work around the scratch marks. That’s how I started my day, with meowing and clawing at the bedroom door.
It’s exactly 12 hours ahead in Vietnam. So when I got up, my hope was that I could clean up the house (that Doc. B would have been embarrassed to see), swiff up all the cat hair, make some fresh ghee and set my mindspring account to check for new e-mail every 5 minutes in hopes of hearing from Doc. B. (before she and the other Viet Nam travelers tucked in for the night). I lucked out and got a quick e-mail at 9:00am, 9:00 pm, Hoi An time. I was now free of any responsibility for the remainder of the day. Unless you count feeding the cats, which I did.
My 40 minute jog this morning was at the gym. And since I wasn’t there at 5:30am like usual, I didn’t know anyone and didn’t talk to anyone. I didn’t even see (Hanoi) Jane or any of the other famous people that go to the gym mid-day. It was one of those mornings where I could have gone on jogging forever. The rain was coming down outside, the iPhone was charged and humming one of my favorite playlists, there was hardly anyone in the cardio room to see my body jiggle, and the Fresh Prince of Bel Air was on one of the overhead televisions. What more could you ask for?
After the gym, my intention was to go to the Decatur cemetery for a Veterans Memorial Day service. Instead, as I watched the rain fall, I turned on CNN to watch our President lay a wreath at the tomb of the unknown. His speech made me think. He remembered a time when our nation betrayed a sacred trust with our warriors. He recalled that Viet Nam Vets had come home to no thanks or help but rather neglect (I’m taking liberties). But he did pledge that under his watch, this would "never happen again." He further promised to "take care of our own."
This then got me to thinking about the Fort Hood victims. All week, I’ve been wondering about that crazy shooter and when someone would "take him out." Would it happen by the hand of some hospital worker (like on that recent House episode)? Or would it have to wait until he went to prison (like Jeffrey Dahmer)?
Then I took a break from my thinking to eat a late lunch and look at Doc. B.’s upcoming itinerary. On Sunday, their group will be visiting the Thien Mu Pagoda, the home Pagoda of peace teacher Thich Nhat Hanh. And the pondering began again. As much as I despise what the shooter did, is he a victim too? Whether it was his religion, how he was raised, his ethnicity, harassment from other military personnel, or some other reason we’ll never know, isn’t he also a victim of sorts? From what I’ve read, he’d never been in combat, but I understand now that you don’t have to see battle in order to suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder. I don’t know the answer, but I do know that I’m seeing things from a very different perspective after witnessing Doc. B.’s preparations for this reconciliation journey to Viet Nam.
If the thought of considering the shooter a victim sickens you, like it did me earlier this week, consider these words of Thich Nhat Hanh who considers compassion a verb:
"When another person makes you suffer, it is because he suffers deeply within himself, and his suffering is spilling over. He does not need punishment; he needs help. That's the message he is sending."
Cheers to all of our Veterans...
