Unhappy Celebrations - The Tale of Two Pictures

Q: What do you call a happy occasion marked by loud festivities and too much food? A: A celebration. Q: What do you call the solemn observance of a memorable occasion? A: Not a celebration.

I know what you're thinking... "What the heck is she even talking about?" Well, let's break it down a bit. In an attempt to make fewer riddles and more sense, I present The Tale of Two Pictures.

The first picture, in black & white, tells the story of a young man who entered the United States Army as part of the 10th Mountain Division; a man who trained for rugged, mountainous terrain by practicing maneuvers in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado. After months of training, his division went on to play a key role in WWII, fighting their way through the snow-covered mountains of Italy and clearing the way for the allied forces who came behind them. The American soldiers were celebrated as heroes by the Italian people, but not by our young man.

Regardless of what he and his comrades accomplished in the war, the victories they had secured and the path of freedom they had forged, this young man didn't feel like a hero. He didn't come home feeling triumphant, he came home somber and saddened by the atrocities he had seen. For weeks after his return, he sat silently by a window and just stared. One day he left the window and went to find a job, working hard as if he had resolved to do whatever he could to make this world a better place.

The second picture, in color, tells the story of the same man at a much later time in his life; a man who became an accomplished civil engineer, raised a family, and eventually became my Grandpa Jim. He was a good guy with a dry sense of humor (which was definitely hereditary) but he almost never smiled. In fact, the face in the second picture depicts the biggest smile I ever saw on him. He was also one of the quietest fellows I have ever met.

 

The longest conversation I had with Grandpa Jim was towards the end of his life. We talked about how he met Grandma and a little about their relationship, and then we talked briefly about his time in the army. "What did you do in the army, Grandpa?", I asked. 

 

His answer was abrupt, forceful, almost angry: "I learned how to kill." 

 

That was all he had to say and I never asked him about it again. 

 

War is a vicious thing. It is a terrible, vivid reminder that evil is real. Although righteous liberty was secured by veterans like my Grandpa Jim, the damage done by the enemy they faced was not magically forgotten when the war ended.

Today we remember those veterans, we honor them and celebrate their heroic bravery that stood against and defeated unspeakable evil. However, while we see and remember their victories, they see and remember the terrors of war and the death of strangers and comrades they were unable to save, and they find it hard to celebrate anything.

To the families of veterans who returned wounded and scarred, whether physically or mentally, Veterans Day is not a celebration. To the families of veterans who never returned, Veterans Day is anything but a celebration, it is a painful reminder of the great cost of freedom.

 

How can we "celebrate" such an unhappy occasion? My hometown held a parade today, attracting and honoring veterans from across the country. President Trump stood outside in the pouring rain to pay homage to the fallen soldiers. Each observance, though profoundly different, was appropriate and meaningful.

Pearlsonally, I cannot say "Happy Veterans Day!", for in my Pearlspective it is not a happy occasion. However, to the veterans and their families on this day I can and do say "Thank you!", for any happiness I've known is possible in large part because of their bitter sacrifice. 

I can't help wondering if their pain is perhaps heightened by the division and turmoil now threatening America from within. I am learning that the freedom and peace I grew up seeing as "normal" is actually an anomaly in this dark world. America is an exceptional country with exceptional freedoms, but unless we learn to embrace and preserve those freedoms we may soon find them slipping away and the sacrifices of veterans like my Grandpa Jim will have been in vain.

May we always remember our veterans, their families, and the great sacrifices they have made on our behalf. May we commit to preserving the freedoms they fought to secure. May we value and celebrate the many blessings those freedoms afford us in these United States of America.