Memorial Day (or, Mourning Again)
I went about mourning as though for my friend or brother. I bowed my head in grief as though weeping for my mother.
Psalm 35:13-15
Here's to those fallen in battle, may we revere their memory always. Here's to the mangled and maim who come back to us, they deserve our care and thanks.
Here, also, is tribute and respect to the living dead, the walking wounded, the ones who left their life on a battlefield somewhere, and filled out the rest of their days in a kind of grey half life, never quite the husbands or fathers they were before, never living the lives they would have led. Long before modern psychology named it PTSD they were among us.
Here, above all, is a salute to those who got back husband, brother, friend, father but never really got him back. I weep for my mother.
Psalm 35:13-15
Here's to those fallen in battle, may we revere their memory always. Here's to the mangled and maim who come back to us, they deserve our care and thanks.
Here, also, is tribute and respect to the living dead, the walking wounded, the ones who left their life on a battlefield somewhere, and filled out the rest of their days in a kind of grey half life, never quite the husbands or fathers they were before, never living the lives they would have led. Long before modern psychology named it PTSD they were among us.
Here, above all, is a salute to those who got back husband, brother, friend, father but never really got him back. I weep for my mother.
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