Saturday, May 23, 2015

To Keep Us Free

To Keep Us Free

March, 2003 - It was the day of the Ultimatum. President Bush had announced to Saddam Hussein, “Get out or we’ll take you out.” The world collectively held its breath. History balanced on a cusp of what was and what could be.

I needed to grocery shop. Seems mundane in the face of such world-changing events, but the small things in life are often unaware of history-in-the-making. I headed to the store, a bit uneasy about being out in a suddenly unfamiliar universe.

The grocery store was oddly quiet. I expected the typical “pre-storm” crowd we get here in the north whenever there is an Event, people “stocking up” on chips and soda and other essentials they might need in the few extra hours it would take to get the snowplows out on the roads. The store, though, was nearly empty, and those who were there were not laughing and talking. I guess I was not the only one who felt strange.

Outside again, I wheeled my loaded cart out to the car. It was a soft night; soft breeze, soft sounds of cars in distance, the soft wail of a train crossing a road somewhere. I popped the trunk, and as the trunk lid raised I lifted my eyes. I saw the sky above; dark blue sky pierced by bright stars, wispy clouds lower to the horizon. Then I noticed what was not there. There were no warplanes screaming through the sky. There were no bombs whistling death as they plummeted toward houses and farms. There were no ambulances flying toward someone’s death.

I saw the woman first. From the sky she looked down. It was a Vietnam nurse, her eyes were deep and shaded with pain and exhaustion. Her stethoscope was draped around her neck, her scrubs wet and filthy with sweat and who knows what else. Next to her stood a World War 1 soldier, weary and grimy. Rank upon rank they appeared, Korean War vets, Gulf war soldiers in sand-colored gear, World War 2 in olive drab, Civil War blue and gray standing arm in arm. It was the Revolutionary soldier who spoke.

Look around.” was all he said. I looked around, at the clear, quiet skies, down then at my full grocery cart. I had all the food I needed, all I wanted. I realized, except for the soldiers in the sky, that I was alone. I, a small woman, was totally alone in a dark parking lot, and I was safe. All the freedoms I ever needed or wanted surrounded me. Freedom from fear, from want, from pain, from cruel dictators who would steal my soul. It was all mine, and I had never acknowledged it.

I looked up again. The rough frontiersman-soldier smiled. “This it why we did it”, he said, “for you, and your children.” I looked down again at all I had. When I looked back they were all gone. But, I could feel them there, the years of bravery and sacrifice surrounding and protecting me.

Thank you.” I whispered, then drove home, aware, at least for now, of all I’d been given.

Summer Iris

Summer Iris