Uniting Children of Vietnam War Heroes

Today on Memorial Day 2010, I was so delighted to learn about a wonderful organization which was started 20 years ago to unite the children of the 58,260 men who were killed in the Vietnam War.

"Sons and Daughters in Touch" will celebrate their Dads' lives this Father's Day, June 20th, as they do each year on this special day, by gathering at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall at 10:00 a.m. in Washington, D.C.

Its leader, Tony Cordero, lost his dad when he was quite young and I commend him for providing such a heartwarming and healing opportunity for hundreds of thousands of children, who are now adults, who lost their fathers during the Vietnam War.

No one helps us heal better than another person who has walked in our exact shoes. They lived through seeing their Dad come home for short periods of time and be redeployed. They and their family members lived with the fear of not knowing whether he would return. Members of SDIT know exactly what it's like to walk in those shoes. And nothing could bring more comfort than sharing with a fellow survivor.

If you know of a family who survived the loss of a father, son, brother, uncle, cousin or other relative in Vietnam, please forward this information to them.

I applaud Mr. Cordero and the countless volunteers who help children, whatever their age, acknowledge their grief and celebrate the lives of their beloved Dads.

Loving So Deeply...It Hurts

I am reminded today of how deeply we grieve and why that really is the case. I believe we grieve so deeply because we loved so deeply. And when someone has loved so deeply they expose themselves to the vulnerability of feeling incredible pain when that loved one has died.

When we are falling in love with someone, there is little thought of all the pain they would eventually feel should their sweetheart leave them through death before they left the other person. We don't give it much thought.

And as years go by and relationships are built and good times are shared and intimacy is developed together, we rarely think of what might happen if that person was no longer with us. If we might lose them to death regardless of when that might be in our lives.

We rarely think it might be sooner than later. We go into relationships thinking we will be with that person until we are old and gray and don't give it much thought that there could ever be a chance they will die prematurely.

But sometimes this happens. We take years to find the love of our lives and never think anything would stop our living the dream together until our 70's, 80's or beyond. We look for the long haul. We look toward the ultimate...being happily together forever.

Yet what happens if forever is a few months, like when a fiancee is lost, or five years like when a new husband is killed, or like 10 years when the children are little and we need to raise them now alone, or 20 years like when the kids are grown and you thought you'd have the rest of your lives together with your sweetheart alone now.

And you find yourself in a situation where you never thought you'd be. You didn't anticipate being alone at this point in your life. You are in love. You still have the fire you had when you began and it was snatched out from you at absolutely the wrong time in your life. There was so much life to still live.

I guess the greatest gift we can give those whom we love desperately is to always honor them, be kind to them and act as though they may not be here tomorrow. If we are kind and loving each and every day and let the nonsense slip away, we will never regret a thing of how we loved them. How we made them the center of our world. How we took the chance to completely and enthusiastically take them into our lives and love them without reservation.

Scary...oh yes. To open yourself up to that level of vulnerability seems crazy in the moment. But there needs always to be a time when we know deep down in our core that this person is my honey...my soulmate. He/she is the one I want to spend the rest of my life with and I am willing to take the chance to love them unconditionally knowing full well that we could lose them at any time.

But not having loved them would be so much more painful than taking the chance of loving them regardless of our past pains and losses. It takes courage to love again. It takes courage to live again.

And it is possible...

Paris Jackson...What Grief Looks Like

Regardless of whether you enjoyed Michael Jackson's music, admired his career and his life, or not, he must be given credit for raising such wonderful children.

On Thursday, at his memorial service, the world saw very clearly what a grieving child looks like. Paris Jackson, in all her pain, mustered the courage to speak for herself and her brothers about their Dad and the man he was to her and them.

For a young child to decide it was so important to let the world know what her father meant to her, speaks volumes of the way she was raised and the love she felt for her Dad.

I was amazed at the continued reactions by the media covering the event. I guess for me, who has seen the enormous effect the death of a loved one can have on a child, it seemed slightly insincere. Inside I was thinking, "have they not ever witnessed someone in deep pain before? Had they never, in all their years of reporting, not seen real, raw emotions when a person knows this particular day will change their life forever? Had they never know the death of someone close to them in their life yet?"

Grieving children are everywhere. Sometimes we get to see it up close and Paris gave the world a very clear picture of what that level of pain is like. For a short, very personal, moment, she allowed the world to see just what the loss of a father can do.

While she may not know it, her courage and her comments have helped millions better understand the devastating emotions that will undoubtedly continue to rise up for her and her family in the weeks, months and even years to come.

Grief is never easy...it is not pretty...at times it's even messy, because all of us grieve differently and at different times. And the unnerving thing about it is that until we're in the thick of it ourselves we rarely will know how and when we will react to it.

So I applaud Paris Jackson's courage. For with her very brief comments she helped the world better understand that a child's grief is real and difficult and yet, when expressed, can have a powerful impact on others.

Can't We Bury Our Heroes in Peace?

When I first heard the story of protestors disrupting the funeral services of our military men and women I thought it was a mistake. Then I found out it was true.

It seems that radical groups are picketing with signs at the burials of our heroes who have served our nation and died to keep us free. Don't they understand that it was they who died specifically to give us this amazing gift to actually have the right to speak out. But please folks...

When a family is at the most vulnerable time in their lives...when they have lost someone who meant the world to them, their parent, sibling, child, the last thing they need is a group of ignorant folks intruding on their pain.

What angers me so is that there seems to be a line that keeps getting crossed which raises the stupidity bar higher and higher. Not to mention the disrespectful bar.

If my grandmother was alive, she'd say "Now how were these people raised?" and I would agree with her. Having the audacity to think that your political views are more important than respecting the privacy of a family who is burying their loved one is completely beyond me.

I don't care what you stand for, whether you try to declare it's your free speech rights, there is absolutely no reason a person with any conscience would additionally and intentionally cause more grief than was necessary for any family who had lost a loved one.

I grew up learning the Golden Rule...do unto others as you would like them to do unto you. It seems to me if all of us would abide by that lesson, we might just pass along some kindness to our fellow human being. And with all the additional stress that our declining economy and the world has stirred up, it seems we would all welcome a bit more kindness into our lives.

Neda - The Angelic Face of Desired Freedom

How can anyone not be moved by the struggle for freedom that is happening now in Iran. So many young people yearning to have their country break free from the oppression that has taken over their lives for decades now by radical clerics and men striving for ultimate power over all Iranian citizens.

When a religious leader declares himself 'the supreme leader' that says something. When a military is raised against its own people, that says more.

I'm sure on that fateful day, Neda and her friends never expected that she would be killed nor become the symbol of potential freedom for an entire nation. I'm sure her family never expected that she wouldn't be coming home that evening to love and embrace them. I'm sure all who loved her, along with the rest of the world, would never have expected she would become the angelic face of desired freedom for a people who have longed for it.

I have dear friends who are Persian. They still have family back in Iran and they tell me stories about how women were doctors and lawyers and after the revolution in 1979 they were no longer allowed to practice their skills. Can you possibly imagine going to four years of medical school, three years of law school, work in your profession and then one day the government and religious leaders decree you are no longer able to participate in society on a professional level? Would a man stand for that? Unlikely. But that is the type of oppression that they brave people have lived under for all these years.

I remember when Iran was taken over by these radicals. I had just finished college. It took us 444 days to have our prisoners released from their hands and it came on the heels of the inauguration of President Reagan. It started on November 4, 1979 and ended on January 20, 1981. At his inaugural luncheon he announced how the prisoners had left Iranian airspace on their way to a military base in Germany. It was a very happy day in our country that our fellow citizens were no longer in their hands.

But what about all the people in Iran who live under this regime each day. I can't imagine what that might feel like in our country. So much of our lives here in the USA are slowly being taken away from us and our countrymen are starting to raise their hands in protest. It's a good thing to not allow a few to kill the spirit and determination of many. But that's another's day's blog.

I honor the family of this young girl who, unknowingly, gave her life for a cause greater than herself. And while her family cannot even give her a proper burial, I, and many other Americans and citizens of other countries around the world, do send out our condolences to them and hope they know she is now with her loving God.

Death of a Child...Age is Unimportant

Greetings!

As I read some of the recent posts to the Grieving Hearts group, it will always be true that no matter when a family loses a child they feel deep sadness for the inability to have seen that child grow beyond the years of their death.

It doesn't matter whether they were an infant, a teenager, or a 42 year old. It only matters that for their family they won't have the joy of seeing what they would have done with their life, all the experiences they would have had from that point on and the person they would have become later in life.

When an infant dies the entire cycle of life is considered. All the pleasure of raising that child, watching them grow into a fine young man or woman. Seeing them graduate high school and college. Perhaps seeing them marry and birth children of their own.

Yet when it's a 42 or even 52 year old child to an older parent, that parent deals with all the additional years they would have had with their child. They also think of how they counted on their child to take care of them in the latter stages of their life.

Regardless of the number of missing years that a parent no longer has the privilege of experiencing, the pain is still great and the hole in the heart still remains. But over time, as grieving and anquish subside, there is a place where it turns to celebration and gratitude for one's life, however long they happen to be with us.

How It All Began

About a half hour ago my printer spontaneously circled as if to print a document, but none had been requested. Whenever something like this occurs, being so in tune to spiritual happenings, I sat back to wonder what this was about.

After asking out loud for clarity, it occurred to me that on this day thirty-six years ago I lost the first person who ever meant anything to me. The first person who had made such an impact on my life and who, unknowingly, would usher me into this field of study and my profession.

At the tender age of 12, while he was 15, the nephew of my neighbor and I became close friends and he ultimately became the first 'crush' I experienced. And while Paul and I were looked upon as 'forbidden' because of the differences of our age, he was such a wonderful guy and friend who I cared for deeply.

We'd play Iron Butterfly's songs and scream the lyrics across the room, help me babysit little ones, watch him study the guitar and try to master difficult songs, taught me wonderful dance steps and just had lots of fun laughing at his funny jokes. And like teenagers do, we stayed on the phone much too long and wrote silly letters to each other.

As fate would have it, he and his family moved away and we became penpals back then. Both he and I went on to meet other wonderful people, but his life would forever impact mine a few years later.

On this day, April 14, 1974 Paul was hit broadside and killed by a drunk driver at the tender age of 19 while pulling out of his driveway. I knew he died in the late afternoon, but when the printer circled at 4:35pm something made me believe it could have been just then.

So I sat back in my chair and just had this simple conversation with him as if his spirit was surrounding me at this very moment. And even all these years later, I filled up with tears because I can still see him in the coffin and how paralyzed I was sitting on the sofa in the funeral home looking at a person who had meant so much to me and it was not registering as to how he could possibly be dead at 19.

Over the years I have wondered how his family had been and what all became of them. I can only imagine how it affected his parents whom I didn't get to see again.

But this little sign I believe he sent to me today had in its own way comforted me and reminded me that not only has he not forgotten me, but that no matter where we go in life, the people we love and have lost will always shown themselves to us. Their spirits live on.

This lovely, simple confirmation and remembrance today, for me, though bittersweet, reassures me that there is something after this life which we will all reach. And one day we will be greeted by all those who went on before us and when that happens what a heavenly party we'll have!

When a Moment Changes Your Life Forever

When I reflect on the devastating plane crash near Buffalo, New York that killed 50 people this past Thursday evening, I tend to notice how fragile life can be. We go about our business each day anticipating that we'll wake up with all our family and friends in tact, and go to bed with the same understanding.

We enjoy their company, organize life plans with them, graduate schools and colleges, get married, have babies, raise good children, see them get married and have babies and raise good children all the while believing it will continue this way in perpetuity.

But for some people, like the families who suddenly and so unexpectedly lost their precious loved one in such a horrific tragedy, their 'normal' lives were shattered in one single moment. Just one. A moment that will forever change how they see life, how they adapt to life, how they cope with change and how they will rebuild all they've ever known.

Nothing is more disconcerting that change. We fight it in our everyday life, but we aren't far from it. We fight it on our jobs, we fight it in relationships with family and friends, we fight it within ourselves when we realize something better could become available to us if we'd only allow ourselves to change.

But with changes come fear. Fear that we won't get it right. Fear that it has to come out perfect. Fear that when all is said and done, it won't be the same as before. And you know what...you're right. It won't be the same.

And when tragedy strikes, somehow all that nonsense that came before seems so completely trivial. That was baby stuff compared to this. This is serious. This is sudden. This is shocking. This is real.

So when I meet folks who are so concerned about money and stuff and games they play with other people's emotions, at this point in my life it's almost laughable. When you have lived through such tragedy as I have in the past and the families of this flight will now endure, you instantaneously get an entirely new perspective on life.

Right now for them, absolutely nothing else matters. The only thing they are now consumed with is dealing with the shock and disbelief that this is happening to them. That the person who they loved so much is no longer here. That they won't get to call them to share good news anymore. That they won't get to share in all their future accomplishments. That they won't be able to hug and physically love them any longer.

So let us be especially mindful that life is incredibly short. In a blink our lives could change forever. Let us be kind toward others. Let us be loving. For one day, it will be our turn to endure a painful loss.