Monday, May 27, 2013

'Fuck Euphemisms' and Other Sad Thoughts on Memorial Day

The other day, I found this meme on facebook -


I'm sure lots of you saw it. But in the constant stream of photos and memes and little blurbs I read throughout the day, it isn't very many that bring me to an abrupt stop such as this one did, for a moment making me forget everything else I was doing or thinking.

Maybe it's age. I am 30 now, after all. To me, this has always been the number at which you really enter the world of adults. Maybe it's the fact that my man is a veteran. That he could have been dead before I ever met him, as high risk a field as he was in. And while, to hear him tell it, the things he saw and the things he had to do (cutting a live bomb vest off of a dead suicide bomber, for instance), haven't changed who he is, I know they have. There is no possible way that they can't have done so. To see a thing with your own eyes changes it from abstract to reality. If one still feels that there is grace, honor and glory in death after witnessing it in this fashion, well... I suppose that is an individual perception. I am fairly certain that, had it been me, I would begin to regard humans much more like sacks of meat, and life as cheap. I won't speak for Josh though.

There will be people who do not like or agree with what I have to say now. I would take this moment to remind you that as long as my opinions are based on evidence, thoughtful consideration and logic, I am entitled to them, and you are under no obligation to feel the same way I do. If you still feel like bombarding me with hate mail, I guess that's ok.

I see people all over the internet posting things today that are somewhere along the lines of "Thank you to the people in my life who are serving or have served, for the sacrifices you've made to protect our way of life." But to me, there is something off with this line of thinking. Because it suggests that without each and every one of those sacrifices throughout our history, our way of life would not exist. And while I absolutely believe that this is true in certain cases, I don't think it is true of all of them. To me, there is no question that many of these ultimate sacrifices were avoidable, unnecessary, pointless. I find it much easier to swallow the argument that, had the Nazis not been squashed, our way of life could have been taken from us, than that same argument in regards to the conflicts that we've been a part of during the last 10 years. I can't look at pictures of our troops standing guard over poppy fields, and be confident that my government is really valuing the lives and sanity it is risking.

This is where people start to take it personally, especially if they've been involved, because it sounds like I'm trying to say their efforts were pointless. And I don't want that, because I sure prefer it when people like me, but I can't... take it back. Nor do I mean any harm or judgment. I just think that the potential horror we place on our military's shoulders should not be taken lightly, and it appears that it IS being taken lightly.

This is what Memorial Day means to me; it means that we should take a hard look at what we've done to our young men and women who've served and ask if the means justified the end. Have we gained enough in these endeavors to justify all the pain they've caused? Have we? If we could give those lives back and take away that pain, would our freedoms be gone? Would our country be conquered?

We talk about death in war in terms that are designed to bring comfort. We say that they died with honor. That their acts were selfless. We talk about glory, duty and dedication. And I just don't think that's fair. I don't think it's enough. Glory will not comfort your mother when she has to put you in the ground. Honor will not hold your wife in it's arms on nights when she is alone and losing her mind in grieving. Your legacy will not raise your babies to be real men, or women who know what a real man's love should be. Medals and awards will never erase the memory of your death from the mind of your friend who tried to carry you to safety.

Again, I'm speaking for myself. I don't think I'm the only one who feels this way, but I guess I could be. I know without a doubt that if Josh got called up and had to go back to Afghanistan where he died in the line of duty... I would want to ball all of those "comforting" words into a fist and break the jaw of every person who offered them to me as solace in place of his presence. His heartbeat. His warmth. His laughter. What the fuck would I care about honor while being crushed by such grief, and how dare you assume that words, air, could lessen that loss. But that's just me.

I think Memorial Day is a time that we should take a hard look at reality without euphemisms. War is hell. Death is ugly. Pain lasts for years and years. It changes everyone who is touched by it. None of this should be glossed over. None of it should be considered vindicated by the grilling of steaks or consumption of beer and maybe, if someone remembers to do it, a few words about honor and sacrifice. To me, what we should really be doing, is looking at photos like the one so poignantly captioned on facebook and asking ourselves if what we've done to these people, our sons and daughters, lovers and friends, was necessary. And we should, with the knowledge of the pain that is left behind by war, choose to be very very careful in deciding it is our only option in the future.

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