Remembrance and Gratefulness

In 1998 my husband went on his first tour to Bosnia, fresh out of battle school, he went back again in 2000, and then to Afghanistan in 2003.  Each time he would come back things would be different. He had seen things, gone places, met people. And so had I, albeit I had stayed home.  But the last time was different. 
The last time he came home was when the reality of what he was doing had finally set in. As Canadians, it is easy to forget that war happens every day in so many parts of the world, or at least we are good at pretending it does not affect us and there is nothing we can do (I know I was good at it anyway).
But this time the war had followed him and it had entered our home, our sanctuary.  We were not fighting, but fear and sadness had moved in, and soon anger had as well and even hatred. Hatred towards those I believed had caused it and towards those I felt had failed us.
Now, over fifteen years after he almost died in Afghanistan, I can honestly say I am not angry about it anymore.  I am grateful. We are so much stronger than I ever thought possible.  We have an amazing family, with the most awesome kids (albeit big kids now). And we have each other, for which I am grateful every day.
So today, I remember all those that didn’t make it home. I remember their families who had to learn to move on without them.  And for the families who are struggling with the consequences and casualties of the wars that did come home.
Thank you to those who to care for the wounded and their families, not just military, but all families, all types of battles. Thank you to everyone who is trying to make the world (or just their home) a more peaceful place. Thank you to those who love others who are hard to love. Whether you’re wearing a uniform, a suit, a robe or pajamas (as I often do). We all have a part to play. 
The irony is that my advice to people who are in the dark parts of their battles, feeling beat up, is that they keep fighting. Fight with the same energy as you would in a war, fight for help.  Ask for what you need and keep asking till you find relief.  When you don’t know what might help, try different avenues and keep trying till something clicks. My hope is that eventually, people won’t have to fight so hard to get help. That the right kind of support will be as easily available as is support for our anger and hatred.

 

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Poppies from my mother’s garden, Sutton, Qc, 2014

 

Stop Trying to Change Who You Are

If you are born with short legs, or big feet or any other physical trait that you don’t particularly like or doesn’t fit with the current trends, you may complain about it and wish they were different but you likely not to spend too much time or energy on trying to change it. And if you did worry about it, the people that care about you would probably tell you it’s just the way you were born and they love you that way.

However, if you are born with a tendency towards being very introverted, anxious or melancholy then well-intentioned people often show concern and offer suggestions on ways to improve these aspects of your self.  For the shy child, we try to get them to come out of their shell. Or the sad and teary child, we try to cheer up. Or even the loud or hyper child, we try to quiet them down.

So what can be learned from this? Is it that big feet are not your fault and don’t hinder your life, and therefore don’t need to be ‘fixed’?  But a person born with personality traits that don’t fit in the spectrum of ‘preferable person’ (whatever that means to you), efforts should be made to improve the aspects seen as lacking?  Of course, no one overtly says this, but I still believe that most of us hear it loud and clear.

As a child, I remember commenting to my mom that she would act differently when different people were around. She did not seem happy with me commenting on this observation as if it was some kind of secret that I shouldn’t speak of, and then she simply said I was making something out of nothing. I also remember from my high school and university days how I tried so hard to ‘fit in’ with the fun crowd; laugh at their jokes, or pretend to be interested in the latest gossip.  I spent a lot of energy on trying to be more like other people because I believed that there was something wrong, or at least not desirable, about who I was (or the way I was born). I would wonder what was wrong with me and how can I fix it.

No one told me I should act differently or be like someone else. In fact, I had a very loving family growing up and I had more freedom than most to explore who I was. But somehow I still got the message (and I believed it) that what was going on in my mind and my natural tendency towards soul searching, meditation and emotionality, were not traits to be celebrated.  Even now that I know this is not true, I can still occasionally find myself trying to ‘fit in’. It is not an easy lesson to unlearn especially since our society still seems to prefer certain types of behaviors in certain groups of people.

Sometimes I wonder if all this ‘acting’ didn’t contribute to my eventual breakdown and major depression five years ago.  I could only sustain this appearance of good mom, wife, daughter, friend, employee/ manager for so long, especially when my husband was struggling with PTSD and I was struggling to care for him and our kids.

I also wonder if this isn’t part of what’s causing the increased rates of depression and anxiety that we are seeing in our communities today.  If we are feeling the need to hide parts of ourselves only to bolster others or act one way with some people and another with others, this is not sustainable. It is confusing enough to figure out who we truly are and want to be in life without having to think about what everyone else expects from us. IMG_0588

My Pet Peeve with Poppies

First of all,  I really do love poppies and the poppy campaign is a phenomenal fundraising initiative by the Canadian Legion. I trust that the money is truly used to help veterans and families in need and I will continue to support it.  My pet peeve is that I feel like people wear the poppy believing they are doing their part to show support and that their government is doing the rest to support veterans and their families.   Where in fact, just earlier today I had an unpleasant phone call from my husband’s Veterans Affairs caseworker explaining why we have been denied coverage for something we had previously been approved for.  In short, Canadians are told there are all kinds of services and programs available. They are promoted on the Veterans Affairs website, in publications and interviews. However, this does not mean that the majority of veterans or families actually have access to them. Basically, what is said to be available and what is actually available are two very different things. This is my real pet peeve and I am reminded of it when I see all our politicians wearing the poppy this time of year.

I am not just complaining about my situation or the stories I hear. The Veterans Affairs Ombudsman maintains an ongoing report card of the current issues (and there are many).  Just to put that into perspective, Canadian tax dollars (well over 5 million per year) go to managing a team to watch over and investigate how another government office is doing their job (whose budget is over 4 billion this year).  I can’t even express my frustration knowing the amount of time and money wasted on this convoluted and broken system of delaying and denying access.

I am sharing this because I believe that Canadians do care about our veterans and their families and they deserve to know the whole story.  The truth is that thousands of vets are constantly fighting with the very office that was created to help them. Many also give up this fight because it becomes to depleting.

So perhaps when you wear the poppy this year, you can also think about the current situation and consider writing to the Prime Minister’s office, or the Minister of Veterans Affairs  (or both!) and let them know you want our veterans and their families to be treated as all Canadians want to be treated; with respect and honesty.

girl near red petal flowers at daytime

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