Our Memorial

I wrote this at a retreat called Soldiers Heart, based off the the book War & the Soul. I had been thinking a lot about war memorials and what they really mean and how they might represent certain things in war and also leave out so much of the truth of the experiences. At the retreat I realized even more that a lot of vets don't have wars that are as simple as Iraq or Vietnam or Korea or WWII, and many of our wars continue in other ways and the way that we were used or have been affected in terms of trauma may not have even happened in a war zone. I call it Our Memorial and I wrote it to remember the civilians at Soldiers Heart that really listened to our stories and helped carry some of the weight, and for the other vets that shared their stories.

Our Memorial

What will our memorial look like?

What will our memorial look like?

When our memories have faded. When our memories are gone.

Will it be stone cold and full of regret?

Slabs of granite jutting up from mother earth?

What will our memorial look like?

What will our memorial look like?

When our memories are gone. Society left them with us, to die.

Will it have a fountain and some names? A fountain and some names?

What will our memorial look like?

Maybe it will be on the mall in DC and it will be an abyss. It will be an abyss.

It will suck you in and you can never leave. It will suck you in and you can never leave.

Collective memories gone but the nightmares remain. Stone cold memories and living nightmares.

What will it look like?

Maybe it will be a set of speakers, that play only at night. Playing only at night.

Playing screams in the night. Earth shattering screams that only you can hear.

What will our memorial look like? What will our memorial look like?

Maybe it will be a sculpture of a mother or a wife.

Maybe it will be a sculpture of a mother or a wife. Looking out of a window with two men walking towards her door.

With two men walking towards her door.

What will our memorial look like?

What will our memorial look like?

When these memories are gone. When these memories are gone.

Maybe it will be a stack of lies. A stack of bold faced lies.

In the shadows of your humble and courageous truth.

Maybe it will be a set of eyes and shoulders and the f---ing people will walk by and wonder what does this mean.

But we know what this is for. We know what it is for.

Maybe it will be a Vietnam Vet who gives hugs.

Who gives the best f---ing forgiving and strong hugs and even though he hasn't forgiven himself this single hug makes me.

Makes me.

Makes you.

Makes us.

Finally feel like this s--t is for real. That this s--t is for real.

What will our memorial look like? What will it be?

Maybe it will be a bible with Jesus holding it blowing off the dust gathered from our bombs.

Maybe it will be a bunch of DD214's. Or divorce papers.

Maybe it will be a children's choir singing In Flanders Fields.

Maybe it will be an open casket covered with an American flag that you can sit in.

Maybe it will be a little girl telling you it is okay, that she is with you and loves you. Maybe.

Maybe it will be a Marine yelling with no sound. No sound.

Maybe it will be a good soldier telling you he didn't do anything.

Maybe it will be a wife that always sticks by your side.

Maybe it will be a saxophone outside of a prison.

Maybe it will be a port-a-potty that you can go sit in. Or a rifle dragged in the sand.

Maybe it will be a five-ton, full of cocaine, at the bottom of the river. Or a little girl thanking you.

Maybe it will be a hologram, and when s--t affects you people see you but otherwise you are gone.

Maybe it will be a bandana that you put on like you're putting on your blues, class A's, like it finally means something to you.

Maybe it will be a daughter.

A son.

With PTSD.

What will our memorial look like?

What will our memorial look like?

I hope it isn't for a war. I hope it is for a warrior.

I hope it isn't only for loss. I hope it for what you can find.

I hope it isn't cold and lifeless. I hope it is real. I hope it is warm.

I hope it isn't for lies. I hope the contents are our collective truths.

I hope it isn't just another memorial. I hope it is an altar. A living, changing, transformational, altar.

What will our memorial look like? What will it look like?

When our memories are gone.

When our memories are gone.

Maybe it will be a calm lake with a warrior on a horse coming out and the warrior has painted blue hail stones across his chest and lighting across his face. A stone tied behind his ear with red hawk feathers tied into his hair.

And instead. Instead of his people following him out of the water to pull him down there are politicians and majors and generals chasing him to hide the truth and then you. All of you beautiful people carrying our weight are encircling the warrior, protecting the warrior, watching the warrior, and praying for and with the warrior.

When our memories are gone.

When our memories are gone.

Maybe our memorial will look like you. Like you who finally listened.

When our memories are gone.