True Patriot Love, there was never more
"In war, there are no unwounded soldiers." —Jose Narosky
I am wounded. I am broken. I gave ‘some’ in service to my country. But I didn’t give as much as some. Some gave ‘more’. Some gave ‘all”. And we need to remember this. We need to remember them.
As I sit here penning this post, I’m waiting for my kids to arrive to help me ‘winterize’ my property and tidy and organize bits of the inside of my home to put it on the market to sell. It's become too much for me and I have to let it go. The snow came early this year so, I’d not had the chance to put away outdoor furniture or have the wood split and stacked, among other tasks that now seem daunting to me. There is so much to do and so little time or assistance, these days to get it done. Veterans Affairs helps with some ‘maintenance’ by funding lawn maintenance and snow removal but it’s overwhelming, costly and time-consuming to say the least; and what I’m provided with isn’t enough to help me pay for all of the incidentals included in chores such as what my kids are coming to help me with today.
I’m not complaining; I mean, I know I’m one of the lucky Veterans, who has a bit of financial assistance and has kids who can sometimes help (when they’re not busy with their own lives). Some of our Veterans aren't so lucky. Some are homeless, some working at less than half capacity. I’m acknowledging how difficult things can be when you’re literally half the person you used to be, while at the same time, also and more importantly acknowledging that I've got it pretty good, compared to some. That said, I don’t want this post to be a, “poor me”, “life is hard after injury and illness”, diatribe.
All of you, who have read my earlier blog posts are aware that I am broken and that it is in large part, the result of my service to Canada. But despite that I am working at half my normal capacity these days, my brokenness isn’t half as bad as some. Many veterans like me, gave ‘some’; some gave more, and some gave ‘all’. Despite what I gave, I didn’t give ‘all’ I am still here and I know that makes me one of the lucky ones. It doesn’t always feel like that; especially on days when it takes me fifteen minutes to get out of bed and dress, or when I’m so confused and my focus and memory are so bad that it takes me an hour or more to remember what I am doing, and to leave the house to do it. Or, throughout the dark days, when it takes everything I’ve got inside me to keep going. Again, these aren’t really ‘bad’ days, compared to some. And, I’m still here; unlike some.
As I sit here, penning this post and looking around my office I realize how proud I am of that service, despite everything. On my office door, hangs my Distinctive Environmental Uniform (DEU) – otherwise known as my dress uniform for those with no Military background. It is adorned with the collar dogs, epilates and shoulder flashes that indicate my rank, trade and Brigade. Behind me, are more Military Police (MP) paraphernalia; including my veteran badge in a shadow box, a pair of well-polished boots and some old berets – also indicating my trade and, displaying that, despite what I gave throughout my service, that I still hold an enormous amount of pride in what I did and how I did it; while I did it.
There are pictures of my comrades and I, scattered around my office and on my laptop. In attempt, I guess to remember the good parts of this experience, as well as to remember them. Some of the comrades in the pictures are gone now. Some of them gave ‘all’. I remember them fondly and think of the good times we had. They’re always on my mind but I know that I will be thinking of them even more so tomorrow, throughout the Remembrance Day ceremony, as I have every single year since they passed. Just as I do my Grandfathers, Great Uncles, Uncles, Aunts and cousins who gave ‘some’, who gave ‘more’, and those who gave ‘all’ in service to their country.
I look back fondly for a moment, on my service. I think of my daughter and how she is still proudly serving this country. I am grateful to her for being able to still do this, despite what she’s been through, as well. I am grateful to all of those, like her and like some of the others who have given ‘some’ and some who’ve given ‘more’; yet, that are still serving. I am grateful to them for having the strength, tenacity and resilience to keep going to help keep our country safe and free. I think about my family members who have served and all that they gave throughout their service. My Grandfather and his “shell shock”, and how that affected later generations within our family but how proud he was of his service; how proud we were of his service and how proud some of us were to follow in his footsteps. I think of the lengthy list of family members who served; including every single one of the men and at least one of the women in my mother’s paternal family. I realize that uniform pride and patriotism are literally in my genes. It is why I am still proud of my service, despite everything. It’s why I will never forget; all of the service and sacrifice in our family, all of the service and sacrifice in our larger, green family, and all of the service and sacrifice, over all.
I am explaining that I am broken, and painting a small picture of this brokenness so that others can see how bad some may actually have it, comparitively. I am wounded. I am broken. I gave ‘some’ in service to my country. But I didn’t give as much as some. Some gave ‘more’. Some gave ‘all”. And we need to remember this. We need to remember that freedom is never free. We need to remember them those who gave 'some', 'more' and 'all'. We need to appreciate the sacrifices they made for our country (all of our countries).
"In Flanders Fields, the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below." —John McCrae