Daddy came back from the war a spiritually wounded man. His joyful eyes no longer sparkled. His big, booming voice also changed. Words came out slower and softer, meek almost, barely more than a whisper, while often looking down when speaking. He avoided windows and flinched at the slightest sounds. And occasionally at night you could hear him pacing around our small living room with a glass of whiskey.
Daddy never wanted to become a soldier. His pacifist nature didn’t lend well to a soldier’s life. His happy place was in the outdoors, where he often took us on weekends for hikes in the mountains. He’d point out the names of bushes and trees and recite stories from memory or tell jokes. But then Pearl Harbor happened. Tears streaming down his soft cheeks as he sat alone reading the morning paper the next day told stories we’d never seen of him before. Daddy never cried, at least not in front of us. I walked over and hugged him, sat on his lap, and said, “everything will be ok.”
Events change motivations, the why’s of life. And for daddy, that morning led him to enlist in the Army. “A man must defend his nation,” I could overhear him telling my mother. Daddy always lived guided by principles.
He left with a tight hug, a soft, generous smile, and his head up high. I remember mother crying that night. She sat in the kitchen alone, drinking hot tea, with tissues all over our wooden table. We tried comforting her, but she smiled, and one of the few times in life asked us to leave her alone.
After two years abroad, daddy came home on a sunny summer day, walking up the driveway with the help of a cane in his right hand. He greeted us with a big smile and open arms.
He told us a bullet shattered some bone in his leg, and though healed, the injury left him with a permanent limp. He was discharged as doctors said he could no longer serve. We were all excited the day he walked back into the house. But it didn’t take long for us to understand daddy wasn’t the same. Burdens weigh heavy on a soul. War changed him. There were no stories from his soldier life during dinner time that night, none the day after either. With time we learned not to pry. Some nights when neither of us could sleep, I’d come sit on his lap as he sat quietly on his old musty reading chair. We didn’t talk much, but his eyes would soften and even light up some.
The years passed, I married, Daddy walked me down the aisle. His cane and a hollow emptiness in his gaze were still present, yet that didn’t matter; he was there. When kids came, he and mama would come over to help us raise them. On good days, he’d take the kids on a light walk into the mountains. And he’d tell them about the bushes and trees they’d walk past.
Shortly before he passed, Daddy wrote me a note. “Thank you for letting me be me. Your warmth helped me heal. Love, Dad.”
Note: “War's Wake: Embracing A New Normal” is a historical fiction snapshot. While based on real events, the story, characters, and incidents are fictitious.
So sorry. So sad. And it happens to so many who have experienced War and the Military. and among those who return home. WHY DO SOME PEOPLE/INSTITUTIONS/ORGANIZATONS really really rally around War? WHY does the U.S. need some 800 military bases around the world? Even this country's nearest rivals have any thing approaching those figures.. And WHY so much money on Military? There are fewer and fewer speeches/utterances of the so-called Leaders that even utter the word "Peace.". And forget about a sane Media. There are no sobering commentators like Edward R. Murrow or Eric Severied. They all read and/or scream a variation of the same script, And they use some variation of the FOX(No) News snarl, scowl, histrionics; and they are all vying for "Ratings." BTW--Most of us never get reactions/feelings of the people who live in those war-torn areas--and who really don't decide who gains power, and what the military and foreign policy of the country will be..
So sorry!! No one should have to do this. IT is time to end the fighting we have lost enough lives. STOP NOW!