Afghanistan and Vietnam

I have had to take a break from the news. The fall of Afghanistan reminds me of the fall of Saigon. And it reminds me of my first suicide call. And it also reminds me of my bio mom and the second to last time I turned to her for comfort.

It was a hot spring day. I don’t remember how I got to dad’s work but, when I walked in, it was chaos and he was gone. He worked for community action in a large, midwest city. I sat at his desk and the phone rang. I looked around and the person next to me, directed me to pick it up. Suddenly, I was on the line with a suicidal vet. I tried to get help but everyone was busy so I did the best I could. His name was Billy, he lost his best friend in that hell hole. Did I know what blood smelled like? How it’s sticky but soaks through your clothes and even into your boots and socks. We talked a long time and then he said he had something to finish. I just knew what that something was. All I could do was quote “I’m a Lucky One” by Barry Sadler. “Tell them about us Saddler, don’t let us die in vain”. We talked more, he told me about his friends he served with and I got to know their stories. I asked him to empty his service weapon. I heard the bullets clank on the old, metal table. I breathed for the first time, in what felt like, a half an hour. When we hung up, he promised to call my dad the next day and I took his number and name and left it for dad. Dad and I never spoke about him but I prefer to think Billy was okay.

Then I ended up at home. Again, I don’t remember how. I turned on the t.v., poured myself a bourbon and coke (both parents were alcoholics and never noticed) and sat down in the living room. Mom came home and lit into me about having a drink in the living room. I asked her if she saw the news. I needed to talk. She just called me a stupid idiot, difficult, ungrateful and unattractive because I was in an over sized shirt. She continued to degrade me and yell at me, long after my drink and I went to bed. I was worried about men taking their own lives and she was worried about a glass of coke (a rule she had just made up).

I am out of the vet community but I worry, once again, about the men and women who were in country and I worry about about the Vietnam vets, too. Does this bring back memories? I pray everyone is okay.