It’s May, cursed, wretched May. Like the other numerous and dreaded times, days and months of the year. I get that I am viewed as angry and reactive sometimes. I get that some people mean well, I get that other damaged people have their own physical and mental weight to bear. But words mean things and even well-meaning people say some of the dumbest and hurtful things when trying to deflect or protect their own version of things.
Most of the time and most of the year I do well enough to bit my tongue and deal with the things that I hear and see from people. Other times, when the wounds are open and the nerves are raw, I just retort and want someone to retract or at least acknowledge that what they say or do (while important or comforting to them) is damaging and harmful to others who may or not be in the same level of peace or tranquility in their lives.
From right after Micheal was killed, I became well aware of what was to come. I was fully prepared for the onslaught of those opposed to me, I was well prepared for the attacks from the same. I was well prepared for the political and philosophical attacks on me using my son’s death as the weapon to inflict the wounds that so many people were waiting for their chance to inflict. I was of course never fully prepared for every incident or well-meaning person who says or posts things that in their state of mind or state of blissful ignorance wounds just as deeply as those who have revenge in their minds.
From people who send religious based posts about how much better Micheal’s existence is now that he is dead. The patriotically themed flag draped coffin photos and the pictures of the private mourning moments of relatives saying their last good byes and hoping in the recesses in their minds that this is all some mistake. The politically motivated posts from people on both sides who are just SURE that I am either now anti-war or pro left or right and need to see some meme or story of someone bashing the current or previous president or administration in some way to make sure I vote the right bastards out.
Today another young man who has seen more hell on this earth that should be required of anyone posted a video of some of the experiences of his war… HIS war.. The faces, the places, the memories, the fallen, the living, those who are still over there in that hell… and STILL someone comes on to dress the guy down. When remembering the fallen it’s a personal choice of the individual to do what they want to do and need to do at that time. PERIOD!
The “He is in a better place” crowd just needs to shut the fuck up sometimes! There IS a place and a time for everything and building some place in some mythological land where those killed in combat are all sitting around a big table are well and good in the proper place and time. When the wounds are open and the memories are being shared by friends and family who lost the people they are remembering.. How about you step the fuck back and just let it be?. Just shut the hell up for a little while! Sit on your hands and do not make a post that will make you seem like a well-meaning but heartless idiot.
There are times we can smile and pretend that your comments are well-meaning and there are times when we are silently screaming in our own heads for you to just shut up with that shit. I don’t care that you think my son or your bros are “in a better place” with gods and other warriors.. For the better part of his life, his time was with us, and we are allowed the god damned privilege to mourn them. Is it selfish? Yeah… I guess it is. Do I give a shit if that fucks up your narrative? No.