Veterans' Day, 2021

[D.J.]

(D.J. sadly looks at his hands and then the keyboard, and
hopes it reads well and gets out there what
he wants to say. )

[ background music: something soft and quiet, maybe a guitar, maybe a
violin, maybe a string quartet, or maybe a quiet voice humming
softly.]

[ Copyright by me, 2021. ]

I remember long ago,
attending an Uncle's funeral.

He had worked on the railroad,
and his brother had died during a war.

I don't know about their service,
just that they put in long hours,
and did the best they could.

I remember stories told by relatives,
awaiting that Department of Defense telegram,
with the regrets to inform,
of a death in combat,
or a missing in action personnel.

I've read stories,
of the folks on the Home Front,
scrimping and saving,
and growing their own vegetables,
doing what they could,
and getting a telegram,
regretting to inform,
of a son, daughter, or spouse,
having gone missing,
or died,
during the war.

In the small town I grew up in,
there was a small closed store,
and some airplane and ship models,
displayed in a dusty display shelf,
sitting there,
all alone.

I, at age 5, wondered about it,
but they wouldn't tell me what it was for,
later, when I was 8 years old,
I was told by a friend it was a few things,
placed there by a mother,
whose son had gone off to war,
there were no remains,
she had gone slightly mad,
and kept watch each day for him,
sitting and knitting,
and left the things in that window,
where her and her husband,
had had a store.

She wanted her son,
to know,
even if confused and lost,
from a war wound,
that this was the small town of his birth,
hoping he would remember the things from,
his childhood.

She died years later,
some say of despair,
as he never returned.

My first dad,
spent over 4 years as a POW,
after the surrender at Corregidor Island,
some of his company went on a Death March,
many did not survive.

I often wonder,
what happened to some of those,
I knew in High school,
or other places I've been.

I go to the search engines,
and their names are not there,
no email address,
no phone number,
no mailing address do they have.

Then I see the name,
on my high school's web pages,
and it says 'deceased',
nothing more.

I sometimes dream,
particularly when I'm lonely,
of the friends I've made over the years,
the ones I've not heard from,
for many a year.

I hope they are doing well,
then I read the high school's web pages,
and I find them,
posting from a borrowed account,
talking of the homeless shelter,
they live in.

Its not all sad,
some have gone on to do great things,
like become head nurse,
at a major hospital,
or the one woman and her husband,
who run a gold mine,
and have a hundred employees.

Or the ones who have,
decided to have kids,
and are celebrating their grandkids,
going to school.

Or folks who are looking,
at their twilight years,
relaxing at home.

Oh ! We have all dreamed at one time or another,
some more often, some less.

I dream of a time and place,
where racism is gone,
and hatred has no place to be,
but thats not always possible,
you have to be careful,
for there are those,
who would love unilateral 'no war no more'.

But thats not to say,
we cannot have peace and quiet,
we have to remember what has gone on before,
so we don't have to repeat it.

So good-bye to our dead,
and hello to our living,
or maybe its the other way around,
or maybe its somewhere in between.
I'm not too sure.

There is a photograph,
of one of my set of great-grandparents,
the photo was taken,
of them standing in front of their farmhouse,
him with a staunch look on his face,
whilst wearing some overalls,
and her, my great-grandmother,
in a granny dress.
now its possible they had seen,
that old famous photo of the elderly couple,
him with a pitchfork,
and her in a gingham dress,
looking Farmer Gothic,
and decided to paraphrase it,
its possible they did that,
it would have been a little joke,
the kind they enjoyed so much,
to give a quiet smile,
to someone's face,
them being the Salt of the Earth,
like that couple in the original photograph,
even if it turned out to be an art piece,
instead of for real.

I've read stores of war,
and I've read stories of peace,
it seems you cannot have one,
without the other,
some when, some place,

so here is to the future,
nor forget the past,
what ever it may bring !

>Crash !< ( toss of drink into fireplace)

[Freyja]

*****crash*****\

BOYC?

--
Freyja the NurseWench
http://freyjaw.dreamwidth.org
Twitter: @FreyjaRN @DuchessHonor
"You can stand tall without standing on someone. You can be a victor
without having victims."
-Harriet Woods

[D.J.]

On Thu, 11 Nov 2021 10:04:31 -0800, Freyja <Fre...@despam.yahoo.com>
wrote:

>> so here is to the future,
>> nor forget the past,
>> what ever it may bring !
>>
>> >Crash !< ( toss of drink into fireplace)
>>
>
>*****crash*****\
>
>BOYC?

Yes, Mike, a refill please.