We had our grandsons over a couple of weeks ago and the funny thing was we began to remember our war of 30 years ago.
It is not that we forgot it but somehow in the weird twists and turns of our synapses those memories became clearer, sharper when we held their hands in ours.
Perhaps that happened because had it been for a step this way rather that way, a pause taken or not taken, a round fired then or not just then but a second later or before the precious moments of holding our grandsons’ tiny hands would never have been realized.
We did not realize it then, but the future at least our future and the future of our descendants, depended on a whole bunch of variables that were dependent on the judgment of a 20 year old idiot that was ourself.
We have the strangest feeling as our grandsons played by our feet that somehow we got away with something.
No one told us way back then that future generations were resting metaphorically on our shoulders. Even if it had been explained we probably would have paid it no never mind. We were after all immortal or at least invincible and a good thing too because people kept on shooting at us.
Once as they were walking, we caught a glimpse of ourselves in a window’s reflection. The look on our face was very familiar but we had never worn it before. Our grandfather used to look at us that way. A look made up of combination of being surprised, amused and amazed.And then our grandfather would tell of his walk alone through the Belleau Woods.
Then he would show us his medals he got for not dying.
To think our very existence depended on the decisions of a 16 year old idiot that was our dough boy grandfather was frightening.
Thankfully both of us survived mostly through G-d’s Grace and not through our own merit.
And one day when they are old enough we will show them our medals we got for not dying. That is if we can find them.
We now know what he wanted us to understand. Life is a miracle.
Happy Veterans’ Day