Grief, Anger, Hope, Healing

Dear Friends

Having seen the Vietnam Memorial in Washington DC many years ago, I hadn’t planned to take time to see the ¾ size model that is on display in Corona this weekend. But since it was set up at Santana Park where Kathleen and I take our regular walks, it was impossible to avoid. In fact, I stayed around for the opening ceremonies on Thursday night. I am glad I did. (It will be there until 2 pm on Sunday). Some quick numbers: 42 sets of brothers are on the wall, 16 chaplains are on the wall, 8 woman nurses are on the wall, 3 sets of fathers and sons are on the wall and, hardest of all, the average age of the 58,000 plus service members on the wall---22 years and 9 months.

It is hard to imagine anyone taking time to see the wall and the mobile museum and coming away without any emotions. While not as strong as the first time I saw it in DC, I still felt a significant measure of grief and anger. Those emotions were also present while watching the Ken Burns series a couple of years ago, which helped me better understand a most sad and complicated part of our history.

But the two words that I am focusing on right now are hope and healing. We can hope that we have learned something (although two decades in Iraq and Afghanistan would indicate we still have a lot to learn). We can hope we will never again be drawn into a conflict that even more now agree, was a mistake.  

But healing is the word which I find is most helpful to focus on. “The Wall That Heals” is the slogan on the truck that is taking this exhibit around the country. Healing is something we all need and are, with God’s help, responsible for, whether that is between neighbors or nations, whether that is in our families or within our hearts.

I close with the words from the exhibit of a mother who finally went to the wall to help herself heal. It is a powerful reminder that healing is not easy or perfect, and that time does not heal all things, but it is still the work we are called to do.

My Dearest Son

Today I am coming to see your name on the “Wall”. I haven’t been ready until now, but I know that I must see it before I die. I miss you so much. I think of you every day. You had so much of life to live and your life was taken so quickly. With lump in throat and teary eyes I am on my way. I wanted to bring your teddy bear but just couldn’t part with it---instead, I brought your first sweater. You are always in my heart. How I love you. God be with you ‘til we meet again.

Love, Mom

May we be instruments of God’s healing for others….and for ourselves.

John

P.S. Here is a picture of another item (among many) from the exhibit of items left at the wall in Washington DC which helped loved ones heal.