A Few Thoughts on Veteran's Day (one day late)

Yesterday was Veteran's Day, and because I am now living with an "official" veteran of a foreign war, I wanted to take a moment to share some thoughts with you all. As many of you know, it's very hard for me to comment on things pertaining to the war. I certainly don't like the fact that we are at war or that so many of our citizens are away from their homes and are fighting for something that so many of us don't understand. But I have to express how proud I am of those who give up so much of their own lives to serve. Though I have not been the one to pack up all of my belongings and put them into an 8x8 storage facility, have to leave my work, family, and significant other to go to a place where the future is uncertain, or have to face entering a place where I might be called upon to kill or be killed, I have had to let that person go and have been the one left at home wondering what's happening and left to wonder if that person will come home.

I'm very proud of Ken for doing what he says is "his job" and for giving up his own personal life and career. He's been home now for 2 years and we're nearing a point where he could be called up once again. It's something I try not to think about too much, but it's something we both know could very likely (almost certainly) happen again. After having lived with him gone for 17+ months and experiencing all that went with that, I sometimes surprise myself at how little I think about those days. But when I do, so much of it is right there at the forefront of my mind ready to spill out.

Just this morning, I was in a meeting and sharing an idea for a professional development workshop helping faculty deal with college trajedies. I felt the need to share how big of a role the War in Iraq & Afghanistan is playing on our students and faculty today; this is something I don't think is talked about as much as school shootings or other terrible trajedies. Last fall, for instance, at the community college, I had a female student who had just returned from Iraq and whose boyfriend was still serving over there. One day in class she just didn't seem like herself. After class, I asked her if everything was okay, and she shared with me that she was worried because she hadn't heard from him in 2-3 weeks. I shared with her my experience of poor communication with Ken when he was gone and tried to reassure her that her boyfriend was just in a place right now where he couldn't communicate with her, but that he surely would as soon as he could. She seemed to feel better having someone to talk to, and though I'm not a counselor by any means, I think sharing my experience with her helped both her and me. It helped me put part of my experience into perspective. I wonder if perhaps I was meant to be part of Ken's experience so that though teaching, I could help students going or returning to the war. To date, I've had 3 students who've returned from Iraq and 1 who had to leave my class to go over.

But what about those students and faculty who don't have someone to share those experiences with? I was blessed with a wonderful support network of friends and family in Iowa and Illinois who helped me through those lonely, scary days while he was gone. I won't forget how alone I felt so many nights and weekends. One memory still sticks in my mind. I often had to pass by an English professor's office door who had posted anti-war signs. Each time I passed, I felt confused and saddened. I didn't approve of the war, but I felt that those signs marginalized my experiences and the experiences of others who may be in a similar predicament. At a time when the events and the result of each day were uncertain, I knew I wouldn't find support from that person should something happen, and unfortunately it was someone I had to work with regularly in some capacity. How many students had to pass that door and feel unsupported? How many faculty members who had loved ones overseas felt unsupported when they passed that door?

I'm not sure what I'm trying to say in this blog posting. I guess I just wanted to take a moment to remember that just a little over 2 years ago I was in a very different place, an uncertain place. Today, things are so much better, but at any moment, both Ken and I could find ourselves right back there again, dealing with that familiar uncertainty. I feel good in knowing that we've taken a big step in making our time together count. Moving in together, though a big decision on both our parts, was a step toward bringing our lives together while we have the chance to be together. I realize now how important it is to take action on something and make things count.

I thought I'd share these as well. Here are two pictures of the memorial stones placed in a Veteran's Memorial park in Dunkerton, IA - not far from where Ken's family used to live. Ken's brother, Tom, I believe, was responsible for donating for these stones. One stone shows Ken's grandfather, his father, and his uncles' names and the branch of service they served. Ken has his own stone with his former rank and the war he served in. Ken never says much, but I think knowing someone did this for his family meant a lot to him. He's very modest about his service and gets a little embarrassed when people stop him in uniform to thank him. But I like to think that deep down such actions mean something to him and make it easier for him to do "his job."