Veterans Day is a day to say thank you, and I have more people to thank than I realized until I sat down to write this. Three generations of my family have served, and each of them came home a little different.
Veteran saluting, Courtesy Unsplash Stock Photos
My paternal grandfather was born and raised in Manchester, England, and became a naturalized U.S. citizen. He served in the U.S. Army in World War II and came home with some souvenirs, including a few pieces of Nazi memorabilia that ended up in a small box in my drawer. I don’t know how he came to have them, and there’s no one left to ask. I also can’t find the box now. My husband thinks they should be burned or donated to a museum. I vote for the museum. We need to remember what happened, and the millions of people who suffered because of it. Burning an object doesn’t burn the history, and a museum can put it in context.
My dad served in the Regular Army, in Germany, Korea, and Vietnam. When he came home from Vietnam, he joined the hippie movement. I’ve always found that one of the most interesting things about him. A man who had served in three different places, who knew what war looked like, came home and chose peace and love. I never needed him to explain it. It made a kind of sense to me.
My husband was also Regular Army, and he served in Afghanistan. He joined for adventure, and he certainly got one. These days he lives in the Arizona desert, where a car breakdown out on a lonely road is a real risk for anyone, and he is still terrified of it. I don’t know all the reasons, and I’ve learned not to push. Some things come home with people, and they stay.
What strikes me about the three of them is how different they are. One brought home souvenirs, one brought home a new way of seeing the world, and one brought home a fear that most of us wouldn’t understand. My dad and my husband were never drafted. They enlisted of their own free will, one before the Vietnam draft and one long after it, and I’m proud of that choice. None of them came home the same as they left.
So today, thank you, Grandpa, Dad, and my husband. Thank you to every veteran who served, whether you came home loud, quiet, changed, or scarred in ways nobody could see. And if you’re thinking about thanking one, don’t just say it. Ask them a question and listen to the answer. A lot of stories don’t get told because nobody is left to ask.
