(no subject)
Tomorrow is Memorial Day. A holiday traditionally to remember those who have given their lives in service to our country. In recent years, it has also become a holiday to pay tribute to the living servicemen and women who defend both our country and those around the world. Whether we were asked to or not. And that's the theme of today's post.
I have never been a big fan of the military, but only because I am not a fan of war or of the lack of individuality that is required by the military. Not because I have issues with the basic principles. I have mixed feelings about the basic principles, as a matter of fact. And I think that was always a bone of contention between my father and all his children. None of us are fans of war or the military, and he was so proud to be a Navy officer. He was so proud to be a veteran who served his country and fought to preserve the rights of another country. I often think that he was disappointed that none of us were enthusiastic about what the military meant.. However, I think that one of the things that none of us realised was that we truly did respect the traditions and basic tenets. And now, 19 years later, I want to recognise and honor those tenets.
Though I didn't necessarily understand all that his years of service meant to him, I do understand that many of the lessons my father learned in the Navy were the same lessons he gave to his children. I daresay these lessons had decent result for both my father and his children - whatever we felt about war and military strategy and mindset, I certainly cannot argue that much of what I value most about my father's parenting stemmed from what he learned in the service. And so I write it here, in the hopes that this Memorial Day, and every day, we honor these things about our troops, past and present. I write it from my perspective - what I think my father felt and how I apply those lessons to my own life, in an effort to make him proud - and to finally show him how proud I have always been to be his daughter.
Courage: My father dropped out of High School to join the Navy, knowing a war was coming. He may have had less than honorable reasons at first, because his home life wasn't great. But think about this: the brutal training, going away from home, not to college but to places unknown, going into conflict where your life and the lives of others will be in peril every single moment. The risk of being caught as underage. The drive to defend another country's basic rights, which you have been taught are the rights of every human being. The knowledge that you, your comrades, the people you defend, may not come out on the other side to a welcome home, but to a funeral. My father took an incredible risk, on so many levels. Yes, he might have been escaping his home life, but he didn't choose an easier life. He chose a harder one, because he believed it was right. We all face choices every day - small ones and big ones. Some take mountains of courage and some only FEEL like mountains. Some involve leaving all that is familiar and comfortable, some involve just a shift of comfort. I know I will never have the courage that my father had, but when it comes to doing what is RIGHT, I hope that I always make the deicions that would be worthy of his courage.
Solidarity: OK, so I am not a huge fan of the mob mentality of the military. However, I cannot argue against the concept of teamwork. Cooperation, trust, unquestioned support, unity no matter where, when or across disciplines. My father showed time and again that it didn't matter if he encountered a Marine, Army, Navy or National Guardsman - they were all brethren. It didn't matter where or when they served, it didn't matter what they needed. He reached out. This carried over into his civilian life in so many ways, I can't even describe it. Yes, he had his prejudices - but the few he had were against people who habitually betrayed human rights. When push came to shove, his battle cry was the famous Voltaire quote, "I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it." He didn't like that his 5 children, wife and he could never work well together as a team, and he once said that he thought perhaps he had taken the individual rights philosophy too far - but he continually tried to show us that working as a team DID work. That it was possible, as a civilian, to maintain our individuality as well as be one with those around us. He frowned on any of us shunning someone because they were different - he told me that I needed to cultivate all contacts, because people need each other. If not now, then someday. Though secretly (he would whisper to me) we need each other every moment whether we know it or not, if only to stave off loneliness. My father was a very lonely man. But he tried to make sure his children wouldn't be.
Honor: Doing what's right, whether anyone knows it or not. That's an old saying, and, oddly, not one I ever heard from my dad in those words. But I'll be damned if this wasn't the finest lesson he took from the military and gave to his children. Perhaps one has to be imbued with a certain degree of honor before one joins the military. Perhaps one learns it there. Perhaps it is learned in other ways that are not even remotely related to this. I don't know. I only know that the concept of cheating, of doing wrong just because we could, of taking a short cut and risking a less than 100% perfect outcome, was foreign to me because of my dad. I learned how to cheat from my "friends" in school. I learned the concept of shortcuts from peers and adults and coworkers. It has never been comfortable. I admit to having cheated or abetted cheating on occasion. I admit to taking shortcuts (I'm more comfortable with these since I got sick) now and again. But what goes through my head, every time I have a decision to make, is whether the definition of "efficiency" has corrupted the definition of "honor." And the answer I always give myself is what my father said, "If the more efficient route is less honorable, then it will prove to be less efficient somewhere down the line." Whether it's because you've been caught cheating or you spend time beating yourself up for doing something dishonorable, eventually whatever efficiency you think you have gained, is taken back by the universe. It is better to do right, just because it is right and that's the kind of person you have decided to be. Whether anyone knows it or not, whether someone asks you to or not. It becomes sticky if what you think is right impinges on someone else's idea, but some things are basic. You don't walk away if someone needs help. You don't cheat or lie because it's easier. You don't ever dishonour your soul. So honour involves knowing yourself, which takes courage.
Humour in stressful times: OK, so maybe this is an inherent Irish trait. we're known for it, after all. However, the Irish developed it after centuries of duress, including military engagements. When life is on the line every day, sometimes the only way to hold on to sanity and humanity is through humour. My father took great joy in being a smart ass and digging up all kinds crazy saying when things were tough. He was also a fan of the show M*A*S*H which was about the Korean War, where he served. Though he said so much of it wasn't even close to possible, he said that much of the insanity, stress, fear and slapstick humour was spot on. People sometimes look askance at me when I come up with wackiness when things are rough. Perhaps they think I am being insensitive. The reality is, my dad taught me that grabbing onto laughter, or even a feeble smile, when times are hardest, is the most sensitive you can be. It is an affirmation of life in ALL its aspects. Life is hard. Life challenges us - to survive and more than survive. Life challenges us to remain whole human beings, not stripped down to the primitive survival mode.
Respect above all: Going back to the Voltaire quote. No matter how I feel about a person, an issue, a procedure, anything at all - I must show respect. I must remember at all times that I do not know all sides of the story. I must remember that there is more to learn by listening respectfully than by cutting someone off because I disagree. My standards are not everyone's standards. My beliefs are not everyone's beliefs. My idea of right and wrong are not, not, not set in stone. I must respect differing views so much that I am willing to be convinced that I am wrong. No matter how much someone else's views may offend me, I must be willing to defend their right to have those views. Sometimes, I admit, this is very difficult, especially in light of terrorism and war and murder. It is very hard for me to say that a killer motivated by his/her beliefs has the right to believe their victims had to die. Sometimes it is just impossible. However, if I cannot go so far as to respect their views, my father's lesson was well enough taught that I can at least have compassion for people who are filled with hate and anger and pain and therfore do terrible things. I may not be able to respect what they do, but I can feel compassion for people who are vulnerable to the worst lessons about humanity, rather than having been exposed to the lightness and great potential of humanity. I tell myself that my dad wouldn't have wanted me to actually respect terrorists and murderers, but he would want me to respect MYSELF enough to allow for compassion.
So there it is. I miss my dad every day. On the veteran-centered holidays I miss him even more, but it is a time for me to reflect on what he gave me and what he gave his country. What he gave my two countries. As my home country is at war and my birth country is on the brink of ending the treaty my dad fought so hard for... I cling to the humane lessons he gave me. And I pray with all my soul that I have become the adult he wanted me to become. He has been gone for exactly half my life. I did all my growing up after he died, so I will never know if he would still be proud of me. I know he was proud of the child I was, and he enriched my potential as best he could. I know he wished that his children had shown more enthusiasm for the military career that was the pride and joy of his life, second only to those children. I know that I can never bring myself to be 100% enthusiastic about the military in general, but I can, without reservation, say that what it gave my dad, and he in turn gave to us, has been the lodestone of my life. And I am proud of that.
I have never been a big fan of the military, but only because I am not a fan of war or of the lack of individuality that is required by the military. Not because I have issues with the basic principles. I have mixed feelings about the basic principles, as a matter of fact. And I think that was always a bone of contention between my father and all his children. None of us are fans of war or the military, and he was so proud to be a Navy officer. He was so proud to be a veteran who served his country and fought to preserve the rights of another country. I often think that he was disappointed that none of us were enthusiastic about what the military meant.. However, I think that one of the things that none of us realised was that we truly did respect the traditions and basic tenets. And now, 19 years later, I want to recognise and honor those tenets.
Though I didn't necessarily understand all that his years of service meant to him, I do understand that many of the lessons my father learned in the Navy were the same lessons he gave to his children. I daresay these lessons had decent result for both my father and his children - whatever we felt about war and military strategy and mindset, I certainly cannot argue that much of what I value most about my father's parenting stemmed from what he learned in the service. And so I write it here, in the hopes that this Memorial Day, and every day, we honor these things about our troops, past and present. I write it from my perspective - what I think my father felt and how I apply those lessons to my own life, in an effort to make him proud - and to finally show him how proud I have always been to be his daughter.
Courage: My father dropped out of High School to join the Navy, knowing a war was coming. He may have had less than honorable reasons at first, because his home life wasn't great. But think about this: the brutal training, going away from home, not to college but to places unknown, going into conflict where your life and the lives of others will be in peril every single moment. The risk of being caught as underage. The drive to defend another country's basic rights, which you have been taught are the rights of every human being. The knowledge that you, your comrades, the people you defend, may not come out on the other side to a welcome home, but to a funeral. My father took an incredible risk, on so many levels. Yes, he might have been escaping his home life, but he didn't choose an easier life. He chose a harder one, because he believed it was right. We all face choices every day - small ones and big ones. Some take mountains of courage and some only FEEL like mountains. Some involve leaving all that is familiar and comfortable, some involve just a shift of comfort. I know I will never have the courage that my father had, but when it comes to doing what is RIGHT, I hope that I always make the deicions that would be worthy of his courage.
Solidarity: OK, so I am not a huge fan of the mob mentality of the military. However, I cannot argue against the concept of teamwork. Cooperation, trust, unquestioned support, unity no matter where, when or across disciplines. My father showed time and again that it didn't matter if he encountered a Marine, Army, Navy or National Guardsman - they were all brethren. It didn't matter where or when they served, it didn't matter what they needed. He reached out. This carried over into his civilian life in so many ways, I can't even describe it. Yes, he had his prejudices - but the few he had were against people who habitually betrayed human rights. When push came to shove, his battle cry was the famous Voltaire quote, "I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it." He didn't like that his 5 children, wife and he could never work well together as a team, and he once said that he thought perhaps he had taken the individual rights philosophy too far - but he continually tried to show us that working as a team DID work. That it was possible, as a civilian, to maintain our individuality as well as be one with those around us. He frowned on any of us shunning someone because they were different - he told me that I needed to cultivate all contacts, because people need each other. If not now, then someday. Though secretly (he would whisper to me) we need each other every moment whether we know it or not, if only to stave off loneliness. My father was a very lonely man. But he tried to make sure his children wouldn't be.
Honor: Doing what's right, whether anyone knows it or not. That's an old saying, and, oddly, not one I ever heard from my dad in those words. But I'll be damned if this wasn't the finest lesson he took from the military and gave to his children. Perhaps one has to be imbued with a certain degree of honor before one joins the military. Perhaps one learns it there. Perhaps it is learned in other ways that are not even remotely related to this. I don't know. I only know that the concept of cheating, of doing wrong just because we could, of taking a short cut and risking a less than 100% perfect outcome, was foreign to me because of my dad. I learned how to cheat from my "friends" in school. I learned the concept of shortcuts from peers and adults and coworkers. It has never been comfortable. I admit to having cheated or abetted cheating on occasion. I admit to taking shortcuts (I'm more comfortable with these since I got sick) now and again. But what goes through my head, every time I have a decision to make, is whether the definition of "efficiency" has corrupted the definition of "honor." And the answer I always give myself is what my father said, "If the more efficient route is less honorable, then it will prove to be less efficient somewhere down the line." Whether it's because you've been caught cheating or you spend time beating yourself up for doing something dishonorable, eventually whatever efficiency you think you have gained, is taken back by the universe. It is better to do right, just because it is right and that's the kind of person you have decided to be. Whether anyone knows it or not, whether someone asks you to or not. It becomes sticky if what you think is right impinges on someone else's idea, but some things are basic. You don't walk away if someone needs help. You don't cheat or lie because it's easier. You don't ever dishonour your soul. So honour involves knowing yourself, which takes courage.
Humour in stressful times: OK, so maybe this is an inherent Irish trait. we're known for it, after all. However, the Irish developed it after centuries of duress, including military engagements. When life is on the line every day, sometimes the only way to hold on to sanity and humanity is through humour. My father took great joy in being a smart ass and digging up all kinds crazy saying when things were tough. He was also a fan of the show M*A*S*H which was about the Korean War, where he served. Though he said so much of it wasn't even close to possible, he said that much of the insanity, stress, fear and slapstick humour was spot on. People sometimes look askance at me when I come up with wackiness when things are rough. Perhaps they think I am being insensitive. The reality is, my dad taught me that grabbing onto laughter, or even a feeble smile, when times are hardest, is the most sensitive you can be. It is an affirmation of life in ALL its aspects. Life is hard. Life challenges us - to survive and more than survive. Life challenges us to remain whole human beings, not stripped down to the primitive survival mode.
Respect above all: Going back to the Voltaire quote. No matter how I feel about a person, an issue, a procedure, anything at all - I must show respect. I must remember at all times that I do not know all sides of the story. I must remember that there is more to learn by listening respectfully than by cutting someone off because I disagree. My standards are not everyone's standards. My beliefs are not everyone's beliefs. My idea of right and wrong are not, not, not set in stone. I must respect differing views so much that I am willing to be convinced that I am wrong. No matter how much someone else's views may offend me, I must be willing to defend their right to have those views. Sometimes, I admit, this is very difficult, especially in light of terrorism and war and murder. It is very hard for me to say that a killer motivated by his/her beliefs has the right to believe their victims had to die. Sometimes it is just impossible. However, if I cannot go so far as to respect their views, my father's lesson was well enough taught that I can at least have compassion for people who are filled with hate and anger and pain and therfore do terrible things. I may not be able to respect what they do, but I can feel compassion for people who are vulnerable to the worst lessons about humanity, rather than having been exposed to the lightness and great potential of humanity. I tell myself that my dad wouldn't have wanted me to actually respect terrorists and murderers, but he would want me to respect MYSELF enough to allow for compassion.
So there it is. I miss my dad every day. On the veteran-centered holidays I miss him even more, but it is a time for me to reflect on what he gave me and what he gave his country. What he gave my two countries. As my home country is at war and my birth country is on the brink of ending the treaty my dad fought so hard for... I cling to the humane lessons he gave me. And I pray with all my soul that I have become the adult he wanted me to become. He has been gone for exactly half my life. I did all my growing up after he died, so I will never know if he would still be proud of me. I know he was proud of the child I was, and he enriched my potential as best he could. I know he wished that his children had shown more enthusiasm for the military career that was the pride and joy of his life, second only to those children. I know that I can never bring myself to be 100% enthusiastic about the military in general, but I can, without reservation, say that what it gave my dad, and he in turn gave to us, has been the lodestone of my life. And I am proud of that.