I am a believer in "the next place". I believe that even in death in the theater of war that the dying person has that moment of peace where they are enveloped with the loving arms of comfort and peace that their higher power provides them so that they are given the safe passage forward that they so deserve. These last two weeks, military families have experienced many losses at home and in the Middle East. May their memories be a blessing to all of us and may their families someday find renewal and hope.
During the spring months as I watch the tulips come up in my neighborhood, nature reminds me that this is a time for renewal. During Critical Incident Debriefings, and in my office over the years, the newly bereaved have stated to me that even before their loved one died, they experienced a stillness and emptiness in the air or felt it in their body. Even more profound is their description of a strange disconnect from the usual comfort that they carried by being in a "soulful" partnership with another human being. Many years ago as I sat and watched a Blue's game with my best friend, who was also my peer on a hospice team, we both experienced a bolt of cold air that our seat mates did not feel. We looked at each other and said "whoa, what was that?" and asked those sitting in front and to the left and right of us if they felt the same wind. They did not. 2 minutes later her phone rang and she was informed by the hospice nurse that her patient had just died. As we called her a cab so that she could retrieve her car and provide grief services to the family, we stood there on the street silent. This was one of many signs that we had experienced in our years as hospice social workers and we knew it would not be the last.
I am a believer in "the next place". I believe that even in death in the theater of war that the dying person has that moment of peace where they are enveloped with the loving arms of comfort and peace that their higher power provides them so that they are given the safe passage forward that they so deserve. These last two weeks, military families have experienced many losses at home and in the Middle East. May their memories be a blessing to all of us and may their families someday find renewal and hope.
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We lost 10 lives this week through a training exercise in Washington state and attacks in Afghanistan. 10 lives. I expected a special news report. I expected people to be talking about it. I expected someone to mention it to me, knowing that my work with Veterans is very important to me. Nothing happened. Nobody called. I saw no special reports. People continued to move in and out of their lives with no mention of the loss while I moved in and out of my life those first few days of the week in mourning. MY child is home safe for a few weeks, but my sorrow for the loss of other people's children continues. It eases the angst of this never ending war to continue my work with Veterans. This week I pray that I made a difference to someone else's child, someone else's husband, someone's mother and father. I taught meditation, I introduced a new Veteran to MBSR, I facilitated a discussion between a soldier and a loved one. We do what we can, with the knowledge that we have, but there's so much more to do.
With all the cuts to the DOD that have already affected the nearby community of O'Fallon, Illinois, find a way to give back this week. Show our military communities that we care about them.
Also check out my new favorite blog: GINA LEFT THE MALL. A truly enjoyable read about an ordinary American who was shaken awake and decided to start supporting the military. Twice in one week, I heard the following quote, once from the mother of a deceased Marine who had killed himself and then again on Gina's blog. "America's not at war, we're at war. America's at the mall." -anonymous U.S. Troop Just Received Text from number one son: "I must be back in the U.S. just paid $8.18 for a beer". Happy zen mom. Today is a good day.
No word for quite some time on re-entry. This makes a military mother nervous. Anything can happen during this critical time. No communication for several days makes a mother nervous. I may have to say it one more time in order for those around me to understand. I'm nervous. How do you relay this feeling of helplessness to people who couldn't possibly understand what it is like to have these feelings about their child because their kids will never face that situation. An ugly altercation this week with one of the clueless among us who wouldn't understand or is even capable of an empathetic thought about a military family even though they live in a military community brought home to me how foreign it is to be in the 1% of military families who have a loved one in a war zone. If you live or work near a military base and particularly if you actually do business with military personnel shake yourself awake and have the common decency to ask them how they are and thank them for their service. If you are somehow remotely connected to a military mom, dad or grandparent ASK THEM..... HOW ARE YOU? Enough for today. Did I mention that I'm nervous?
When we get close to a homecoming everyone in our family begins the nervous texting, e-mailing and phone calling that begins something like this: "Have you heard from him?" "He hasn't been on-line lately, does that mean he's traveling?" "I shouldn't send a box should I, it's getting close?" We never have a date, we've just become very good at counting and understanding the cycles.
Now that there's someone special in his life, I don't have quite the privilege that I once had as the receiver of the Hearts Apart e-mails that give families the head's up that our loved one is coming home soonish. I don't mind this. She is also a continuous deployer. They understand each other. In other words, she's low maintenance and every mother wishes a low maintenance female in their son's life. She has received my approval, something that I know is very important to my son. I do admit that I miss being the main point of contact. If I act pathetic enough, and she's in the states, she'll even give me information. I say this with a smile on my face. Having someone special waiting for my son gives me a sense of peace. My peace of mind will reach it's peak only after I hear the words "Hey mom....................I"m in the states, God I love my shower". As a therapist who specializes in deployment, I find myself in the position of Keeper of Stories. Week after week, soldier after soldier trusts me to offer them a shoulder, an ear, a safe place to just "be". It is a sacred job, to just hold the space for them. After so many years as a therapist, it is impossible to be shocked with the content of people's personal stories anymore. The responsibility of keeper of stories that took place in the theater of war is a big one. From time to time I have to take a step back and seek my own sacred space in order to shed the stories and refresh my soul so that I can process the new ones awaiting me at my next session. I am grateful for my family and my yoga teachers who facilitate that process for me just by allowing me to keep to myself. My son, a SSgt., on a permanent rotation in the middle east once told me that "some stories can never be told mom". So the silences between the soldiers and I become just as sacred as the stories themselves.
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MilitaryZenMomI am the mother of a United States Military Service Member who is searching to find peace and meaning in my experience. Archives
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