Being a Veteran

Having just watched the documentary, Alive Day Memories: From Iraq, as I work on my novel which is loosely based on my family, I am overwhelmed at the sacrifice of soldiers. It is really extraordinary what these patriots have endured and just how brave and beautiful they are. My handsome compassionate 6' 3" dad came back from the Korean War with no physical scars and if you spoke with him on any given day you would never know that he had any. He was impressive: intelligent, creative and striking. (No one could play the piano better; his touch was extraordinary.) People were drawn to him because he loved them.

Dad visited the sick and infirm often and taught us the importance of giving to others. Yet, one day he left my mom alone with twelve children. Although he returned regularly, it was amazing how he was able to divorce himself from our sometimes difficult reality and yet love so many others so selflessly. He even took us along with him to nursing homes where friends of his parents were as we listened to him patiently attend to their concern. He was otherwise very loyal. Dad routinely talked to derelicts, giving them money and food, but did not see to it that we ate daily. Our wealthy relatives would take care of us. Sigh! My brothers are wonderful fathers for the great lessons and failures of our dad. One still struggles that dad left and we are supportive of him. He emulated dad the most as a teen.

When Dad died in the Bay Area when I was a first year graduate student, people were amazed that he had twelve children. He had never spoken of us, yet he told us of them. When he passed and my brothers went to California for his belongings, perfect strangers readily identified my brothers as his sons and spoke of our dad to them. It was amazing. But this was dad. He cared deeply for others and people were drawn to this tall dark handsome man with gentle eyes and physique of an athlete. He was a gentle giant. I can only imagine now how the war must have affected him. He never spoke of it. He was such a young man when he enlisted.

My mother never ever spoke ill of dad and we were taught to love and respect him. She never demanded anything of him which was always a bit strange to me. He would visit and there would be absolutely no tension, except for what I was creating. She also never pinned openly about what he wasn't giving her as a spouse. Mom loved dad dearly and was a fierce advocate for our well-being and his. Where did this leave her? As the youngest of my family, there were things I didn't quite understand. Dad had left for good just when I was born. Although we became close throughout the years, I was not raised in the same house as were my siblings. But my mom's compassion and forgiveness taught me to be compassionate and forgiving. Actually, both my mom and dad taught me these invaluable lessons by both their words and actions.

I was a first year graduate student when dad passed unexpectedly; it was a major blow. I wept silently for quite some time and thought that I would never get over this loss. For someone who never supported me as he should have, although he came to most of my performances since middle school and would talk to me about anything when he visited, the pain was intense, even though he was a bit of an enigma. I miss dad dearly to this very day and honor the gentle solider who must of had many inner scars. May God bless the veterans of war and may we weigh the consequences fully before sending young men and women to war.