This morning he woke up again on the couch, as he always does. He hasn't been in our bed, my bed, in a long time. It took the wise words of our god-daughter, someone who works with Veterans, to explain why. You see, he's still on guard. He's still protecting those he cares for from harm. The door to the house, to the outside world, is vulnerable to forces beyond his control.
It's a thin barrier. Just like the jungle canopy rising alongside the Perfume River in Vietnam. That wall of green couldn't stop the bullets or grenades that came streaking out towards his boats, his men. They were always his first priority.
He was their "old man on the river." They were getting off the planes in Nam, younger and younger. "Babies", he called them. Too young for what waited for them, as if age was any shield. They were why he signed up for a second tour. They were why he had to be escorted to the plane that would finally take him home. He wouldn't, couldn't, leave them behind.
He never has. They are why he sleeps on the couch. He'll never leave those he cares for defenseless again.
He's why I write diaries for Netroots for the Troops. And I suppose this is where some of you go, "On no. Not another NFTT diary." Actually, no it isn't. There are no links to NFTT or donation information. As I said, this is personal. It's become sadly very apparent to me that far too many on this site are just not interested in what NFTT is trying to do for this generation's "old men" and "babies." Sad and frustrating, at least to me. I don't want to explain to him why it looks like we won't do something so simple - reach our fund raising goals for care packages.
So, this is just me venting, sharing some thoughts, a reality, far too many aren't interested in or don't want to know about. It's uncomfortable stuff and just can't compete with the latest policy wrangling or hair on fire meta.
But this is the reality so many of us know. This is the personal that shapes the political.
So I'm writing in honor of my "True Heart", a name I gave him years ago. He writes poetry. About Nam of course. But also about the children and grand babies, the way wood feels beneath his hands as he turns it into a pen, a wine stopper, a bowl. He writes about Canyon Country in Utah and riding the river through stone walls millions of years old. He doesn't write about the song birds returning in the spring after a long, snow silenced, winter. He can't hear them singing up the day anymore. Nam took that as well.
The children and grandbabies, the willow tree in the yard, the grain and color of wood, the stories of stone and water, are what keep him here. They pull him back from Nam again and again. Until sleep comes.
Right now, there are soldiers serving in Afghanistan and Iraq who are staying because they won't leave their men behind. Decades from now, someone will write about how they never did. How they sleep on the couch, guarding those they care for.
I hoped that we'd be able to give them something easy and simple to share. Just some packages that let them know they weren't alone. Just some caring that might help them sleep a little better. Just a reminder, that there isn't always danger on the other side of the door.
Post Script:
It's hours later. I have to get ready to get the four year old grandboy at school in awhile.
Thank you all so much for sharing your thoughts, caring, and efforts on so many fronts.
For those of you who asked. The NFTT fundraiser ends at the end of this month. There is less than two weeks left. Yes, we LOVE small donations and here is the link to the donation page.
https://bos.etapestry.com/fundraiser/NetrootsfortheTroops/teamup2011/aboutEvent.do
Thank you so much for all that you do, whatever it is for. At home, in your community, for Shelterboxes, Kiva, Haiti, NFTT, the good people of Wisconsin, or where ever you've been called to action.
May this day and all days bring blessings to you and yours.