Ten years ago, I lived on the Mendocino Coast with the man and my two then school-age daughters. My memories of that phase of our lives are fairly bleak. The man was struggling with some mid-life issues, mostly with his family of origin. He was depressed and I felt helpless to help him. I wondered whether our relationship would survive those harsh days. Thankfully, it did. He went through his own personal hell, and came out of it stronger and much wiser. His issues with his family were worked out, and he enjoyed a renewed relationship with his dad. Which I am so grateful for, since his father died just six years or so later.
We both worked full-time--he at the local brewery, me at the local coffee company. We lived next to the harbor, where we could smell the sea and hear sea lions barking. That region is one of the last bastions of raw, rugged beauty left in California, and we were thrilled to have moved there from the central Sierras about a year and a half earlier. My daughters were 10 and 16, had good friends, and a supportive, loving family.
The man and I were still disgusted that Bush II had slithered into office, and was now beating the drums of war. Because, he told us, we had to keep America safe from more attacks like on 9/11.
Even though Saddam and Iraq were not responsible for that day, nor did they possess the capability to manufacture weapons of mass destruction, which we were led to believe. And which many DID believe, blindly.
The mood at home during that period was increasingly somber,
and we adults felt voiceless and powerless as we continued to express our disagreement with the now inevitable invasion of Iraq. At work, we were both surprisingly outnumbered by those who thought we had no other alternative, and the anti-war protests in our town were matched by very vocal, very redneck-ish groups of war supporters. Even my own father, a lifelong progressive democrat and pacifist, was reluctant to voice any dissent. He just wasn't sure it was wrong. Yet.
But it was wrong, and it is still wrong. Millions of people's lives have been and will continue to be impacted in countless ways, mostly of the horrific variety. We apparently have learned nothing from the Vietnam war... Which my hero, Rachel Maddow
reported on last night. It seems that some L.B.J. audio tapes have surfaced, from the Thursday before the 1968 presidential election. The year that Dick Nixon beat Hubert Humphrey by a narrow margin. President Johnson was very close to a peace treaty with Vietnam. In fact, he even made a speech to the American public that an end to the war was within reach. Days within reach, even. Tricky Dick managed to back burner the democrats plan to end the war, since that would have almost certainly spelled defeat for republicans, if the democrats stopped the war. He said that we should hold off and let him take office first, and then he could stop the Vietnam war in a more practical manner. Nixon won that year, and the war we could have ended went on for five more years. All in the name of political victory.. How many additional lives were lost or otherwise decimated during that five year span?
I'm tired of war, and war profiteering, and increasing numbers of young people coming home destroyed by this illegal war. Even if they were lucky enough to come home alive, and not lose limbs, they are too often seriously damaged... With not enough support here to recover from all manner of PTSD. These soldiers will be our police, firefighters, and school bus drivers in the near future.
Even though they could have unchecked serious emotional and mental health issues. I find that worrisome-and tragic.
So, forgive me for not patting myself on the back today. I never wanted this war or the war in Afghanistan to begin with. I believe strongly in the power of peace, still. And always will.
