Friday 55-A Veteran's Solace

*Today's 55 was first published 4 years ago but I'm posting it and the explanation again with a few edits.  Thank you to all who have served with honor.  It is my deepest desire that you all are at peace, that our leaders more carefully consider in which arenas you are engaged, and that those deployed may return to the arms of their family sooner rather than later.

FRIDAY 55

Haunted by the beaches of Normandy,

he seeks solace in the familiar woods.

The currents in his life flow unchangeably

as the footpath beckons another way.

The breeze whispers through the treetops

like a mother soothing her child after a nightmare.

Away from the world's wickedness,

no evil molests him.

Peace descends

with falling leaves.

My maternal grandfather was drafted near the end of World War II.  He was married and had two very young children at the time.  His service was ended when he was wounded in combat and he lost part of a foot.  At times he sought solace in the woods.  At other times he sought it in alcohol.

My grandparents owned a little vacation place "in the mountains" about an hour north of where I live now. That place was Grampop's refuge. He and Nana often took my brother and me there on weekends, giving my single mother some time to herself, especially in the immediate aftermath of my parents' divorce.

On the hikes we took together, my shattered little girl heart found peace as Grampop pointed out wildlife, geographical features, and spun tales of the Lenni Lenapes who once lived in the area. Nana and I often giggled along the paths lined by wild berry bushes as we filled our caps full of the ripe fruit. When Grampop's health deteriorated to the point that he could not walk more than a short distance he sat still as a statue on the back deck, hands extended and palms up in zenlike repose, as songbirds came to take seeds from his hand. He had taught me very young how to get a chipmunk to eat from my hand but only he could coax the wild birds.

I know he was broken by the things he experienced after being drafted for WW2. I know he searched for healing in a whiskey bottle and I know people he loved suffered as a result. I know he had a need to create and dream and he suffered when he was derided for spending time on pursuits no one saw as gainful. I know he found peace in the woods and he led me to it when he took me by the hand on long walks. I know he fed my soul when he encouraged me to create and dream whether it was gainful or not.

I am grateful that he performed his duty when asked.  My mother prevented me from seeing the worst ways he grasped for peace.  I am so glad she made room for me to be exposed to the healthy ways he searched for it. 

Again, thank you to those who have served honorably.  I wish you all peace in your daily lives.