Id like to recognize Veterans Day ---------I remember the day there was mumbling and grumbling in the house on 1400 N. Virginia St in El Paso-----I was six yrs old----my brother, Albert (Abdallah), had received a draft letter---------I tried to understand who it was that sent it-----and why he had to go to a place I had never heard of------that I later saw on our black and white newscast-------on our late 60s TV------wondering, every weekday, during our evening newscast, as I sat on the floor, and Dad lay on his couch after a long days work, and Mother sat intently in her chair, trying to understand the language of this new America----I wondered, also, intently, and worriedly, if we would see him on the set, half-hoping we would see his face, half-hoping we would not---I suppose even a young child knows that no news is better news than some news, and if we did see him on that set, I worried he would not be standing; Id, later, go to bed, dreaming, of what war might be, and if they were really trudging through thick, wet jungles, looking for the enemy. I began, at six, trying to identify the enemy, and as I grew older, I found I still could not identify the reason my brother and others brothers were sent there. All I knew, as it was happening, in his absence, was wondering----if he would come back, and being afraid for him, and worried for my mother who cried every night and bent down to pray throughout each day that he would come back, safe and whole, which he did---grateful to God. She would have our friends and relatives drive us (Mom, my grandmother, and a very young me) over the bridge to Mexico----------to pray for Alberts return, to make, what sounded, to me---deals with angels and saints----for his safety, his arrival back home.... Mother and Sitto (grandmother) and me, all of us, lit candles at the church of La Virgen, Mother stayed kneeling much longer than any of us.....we would sit in pews, and wait for her, which sometimes felt a very long while, and Id investigate the tall ceiling in that cathedral, and Grandmother would sit quietly, almost not-moving, but I heard her mumbling prayers as well; I figured I only needed to pray once, and that whoever heard me Up There likely heard it the first time, if He ran the world and was listening. I always believed He was listening. Mother would finally rise from kneeling, and wed spend the day at the old Mercado with whichever person drove us there, and Id ride back with a cold bottle of Coke, hecho en Mexico, sitting in the back seat, looking back out at the children selling gum, who looked back in. My brother did come back, and we are so thankful for that, grateful, no words......my mother could see again, past fear, through faith, at the merciful rewards of the God who she petitioned. There are so many, though, who did not come back, who came back maimed, addicted, spent------I would guess many of them were prayed for too, all I know is that some did not come back, we hear the stories-----------or came back missing limbs, offering up such sacrifices-------- Me, I was relieved, that my brother did arrive and looking whole-----my mothers transformation was astounding--------a night flower that had opened in the light--- Today, Id originally typed Happy Veterans Day, but I began to wonder if happy veterans were happy, at all, about any of it; I know some are proud of their courageous service, and we are, too......but I also, like you, know the weight, or of the weight, of all the things they carried. Here is a gratefulness extended to all of you who did come back. And a thankfulness for your service in the eyes of what you believed a greatly important task, others were drafted and had to think that to get through.......To those of you who did not come back, who have fathers, husbands, children, grandchildren, who did not come back----there are really no words anyone can provide......but a gratefulness for their courage, and for doing what they thought they must for people in their country, left behind in their wake......we are grateful for such courage, lived often through the most unimaginable of fear. With all respect for your strength of heart and body. And for your service.
Posted on: Mon, 11 Nov 2013 13:53:57 +0000
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