One of the women I really like at the clinic lost her son last week. She and I bonded over the fact that both of our only kids were military. She hasn't been able to talk about what happened but he committed suicide. She is understandably devastated and I can't even begin to imagine the pain. I don't even want to try.
She and her son had a close relationship, and she thought they talked openly and there were no secrets. Much like I have with Bre. I just wanted to hug Bre when I heard the news.
He was a year younger than Bre and was about to be deployed again to Afghanistan.
My heart breaks for her.
I talked to Bre and emphasized that no matter what she was going thru there was always help to be found and I would always be there for her. It's scary to think that your kid could feel like there was something they just couldn't deal with and wouldn't or couldn't reach out to you.
And then yesterday I took my father over to the VA hospital. He went on up to his floor while I tried to find a parking place, so I was waiting for the elevator which are as slow as molasses, and caught movement out of the side of my eye. I turned and there was a young man in a wheelchair with both legs missing trying to grab the door handle to open the door. My elevator door opened and people walked in, I told them to go ahead, I walked over and opened the door for him. I told him "they don't make these things easy, do they" he finally met my eyes and and responded with "and I thought Iraq was hard". I grinned at him but really I wanted to cry.
While I was there I saw 7, yes I counted, young men that were either in wheelchairs or had already gotten their prothesis. The guy I sat next to in the waiting room had an eye patch, we chatted for a bit. He had let his hair grow and I noticed he kept swinging his head forward, I assumed so his bangs would help hide the patch. I leaned toward him and said quietly "you know the patch isn't bad, reminds me of Jack Sparrow in a manly kind of way". He laughed and said he was going to use that one with his girlfriend.
If you ever want to see true courage go visit a VA hospital for a day.
10 comments:
{{{hug}}}
This post brought tears to my eyes, Tummy.
I think it is awesome that you talked to Bre. Lots of parents don't do that, I'd imagine.
I think you're pretty damn awesome.
{{{hug}}}
*hugs* So glad you got to talk to Bre.
I would be a blubbering mess if I visited a VA hospital.
Bre got moved to a bigger base so there's more amenities. No more porta-potties and some showers that work. Yay! And I get emails from her frequently. Double Yay! and an infrequently phone call every once in a while. Triple Yay!
We're in count down mode. A little over 2 months before she's back in HI.
*hugs*
I can't imagine any of that. I don't think I would survive Conner dying before me. In any way.
I know I couldn't go to a VA hospital.
First off, {hugs} for you, and {hugs} for Bre.
Good for you, making the Jack Sparrow reference. That was a perfect intuition!
Yay for only 2 more months!
{{{hugs}}} I don't know what to say. I can't relate in any way whatsoever, but your post gave me a little lump in my throat and. . .and. . .oh crap, I've got something in my eye.
Honestly though, you are not only an inspiration to your family, your daughter and those close to you, but to strangers you just happen to meet along the way.
Those you know you are very lucky indeed.
Thanks for all the hugs. I'm going down to Dripping Springs Monday and I find myself nervous about seeing the Mom. I pray I find the right words but right now I'm at a loss.
I'm usually good at talking to people, but seriously there are no words that express the emotions that run through me when I think about her and her family.
I don't know how she's making it from day to day. You know, you think you're a strong person but something like that would take me to my knees.
You offered such wonderful support to these vets. I'm amazed at your way with words.
My workplace is attached to the VA hospital. It's been weird how in the last seven years I've been here, I've seen a real change in the age of the clientele. It sadenns me beyond words.
{{hugs}}
*wipes away tears* This is all so sad. I worked in a VA hospital for a while. You're a good person, Tummy. *hugs*
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