…what is it good for?
Amos did a post today, about war. And it’s aftermath.
I was not involved in the war. I know people that were though. Some I know well, others not so well.
They tend to keep people out for the most part.
Don’t speak about what they did or what was done to them. Probably don’t like to think about the things they’ve seen. About the cruelty of humans.
This will be a post of many facets, because the war influenced many walks of life.
The facet I’ve been in contact with most is relationship wise.
So many of the men in my age group and probably a bit older, was part and parcel of the war we faught. Those people must surely now be in hell, because it was all for nothing – we invited the enemy in, and I doubt that the two make for very comfortable bedfellows.
Which all just makes everything so much worse. Probably like the Korean war was to the Americans – lots of perfectly good men died for something they did not really believe in, and the lot that came back were forever changed. And now they have to live with the same people they had to kill so many years ago.
Just one thing though.
Is the things you see in war really that much different from the things happening in our society right this minute?
People’s cruelty has never known any bounds. Do paramedics and police officers not see the same kind of death and destruction that is seen in wars? Maybe not the bombs and landmines, but people burnt with tyres and petrol. Young kids mangled in car accidents, old people flayed alive with panga’s and sawblades? People killed in their drive-ways. Women raped and killed with bound hands, and in many cases, kids in the closet or the next room…
I was married to a man that was a soldier all his life. He would probably still be one if there was an army worth enlisting in.
Being a soldier is like being a nurse or a teacher – it’s something you’re born to. The rigid structure, you have a set goal, and the toys to bring that goal closer.
Unfortunately, a family does not conform to those ways and goals. A teenage son is not going to like being treated like a private in the army. He will not enjoy the bonds of rigidity that such a thing implies. A wife will not treat you as a general is treated by his subordinates. She will challenge that every step of the way – as I did.
Point I’m trying to make – yes, you’ve been to the war. Yes you have seen things that people should not see. I can’t imagine what I would be like after seeing things like that – I got upset when they showed Ghadaffi’s dead body on the TV news. Could not continue watching Game of Thrones because they killed a dog – I just can’t handle the cruelty of people.
I also don’t deserve to pay for the things you did see and do.
And the only way to make sense of it, if at all, would be to talk about it. Write it down. Scream, rant, rave – but don’t keep it so deep inside that it damages every relationship you will ever have. The people that love you, that want to be close to you, don’t deserve that. They should see you as you really are – warts and all. And if those warts include being angry at a government for making you fight a useless war, or cry at the thought of seeing so much damage done to people, then, so be it.
I have to say, from my point of view – I’d rather hold you in my arms and give solace for things I have no control over, than to be shifted aside so you can spend time in the deep, dank caves you crawl into when you think of the bad things.
My dude (not my ex, my dude – there’s a difference) suffered from shell shock. He was involved in a few IED explosions. Every loud sound he heard took him back to those times – times when death was a footstep away. One day, while in Istanbul, they had a huge fireworks display. And it took him right back to where he was, so many years ago. I could not help him. I could not take it away from him. All I could do was hold onto him. To let him know I was there, and that no matter how scared he was then, it’s over now – I’ve got you babe. It would not have worked if he did not LET me do this. He did not push me away. He accepted my solace. And for that little time, he was cherished.
That’s what you should let people do. Because they do have solace in mind when they try to help you. The touch of a human that loves you has many healing properties.
Let them. Allow them to help you through the healing – they’re not doctors. They can’t give you pills or glowing words. They can only give you of themselves.
Accept that healing, take it into yourself, and try to become as whole as you can.
Don’t allow war to take even that away from you – it has taken enough already.