We love us our veterans, don’t we? As a peacetime veteran, I’m
all about Veterans Day. I didn’t spend several years of my life hanging out in
a uniform so I could get a day off once a year, which was just as well since it
was many years before I had Veterans Day off. And I wasn’t in when there were
conflicts and wars, only pretend let’s-get-ready-just-in-case practices. It was
no big deal for me, because I am lucky.
But here it is Veterans Day again, as it rolls around each
year, and I want to thank everyone who served. So there you go.
Last week I was in Portland, and on my way home. One of the
freeway entrances that I frequent often has people on the corner. Cardboard
signs abound, pleas for help, and sometimes cardboard artwork. The clientele
differs. Sometimes they’re young and healthy looking, and I wish they had other
options than to stand on a corner and wait for people to hand them money.
I know, I’ve been told many times that “they” make more than
I do, that “they” could work if they wanted to, and that “they” will just spend
any handouts frivolously. I don’t hand out money, but that’s mostly because I
never carry cash. And I don’t carry cash because I probably would hand it out. And
then there would be none left for me. I wouldn’t hand it out to everyone, but
there are times when I see someone and I think, “I wish I could give that
person something.” But I can’t do everything I want to do.
On this one day there was only one person on that corner,
and he was old, and thin, and his sign said he was a veteran, and he was
homeless. He couldn’t move very well, but there he stood, with his cardboard
sign, inviting anyone to stop.
Was it true? As far as I know. People have said I should be
more suspicious of others, but I’m not, and that’s just the way it’s going to
be. He looked like a veteran, worn out and used, and then discarded because,
well, he’s no longer much use to us, is he? He can’t be sent overseas to fight,
and he can’t be put to good use, so there he is, on the street corner.
“He doesn’t have to be homeless,” people say, but I don’t
know. I do know that many are homeless, and many have problems that aren’t
addressed because there isn’t enough money to take care of them all, and we
easily assume that their problems are because of who they are, not because we’ve
let them down.
He reminded me of Fred, my once hospice patient who was also
a veteran, until he retired. He went to war, he came home with health issues,
and as he was dying he was still awaiting word on whether his exposure to Agent
Orange qualified him for disability. He was dying from a respiratory disorder,
but the VA said it wasn’t their fault – it was his own fault for smoking.
Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t. I don’t know.
I’m not nearly as knowledgeable as I would like to be. I don’t
have answers, only questions.
On this one day I had a ten dollar bill in my wallet. This
happens very infrequently. I pressed the little button on my fancy car that
tells the window to roll down, and the man with the sign hobbled over to me. I
handed him the ten dollar bill, and then he grasped my hand firmly in his, and
told me to enjoy the day, for it was sunny, the sky a clear bright blue. I told
him to enjoy the day also, and he smiled, and then the light changed. He
hobbled back to his spot, and I drove onto the freeway, lighter for the loss of
ten dollars.
Sometimes being lighter is the best thing that can happen to
us.
People will say, “He’ll only spend it on booze, you should
never give them money,” but I don’t really care. Get this: I don’t even care
what he spends it on. That’s his business, not mine. I’m not his mommy, I’m not
even a social agency. I gave him a gift of ten bucks, and what he does with it
is up to him.
What we do speaks volumes about what we think of our
veterans, and no matter what we say, it’s our actions that tell the truth, not
platitudes.
My nephew recently came home from war. I want to thank him,
and tell him I love him, and I hope he never needs to rely upon the government,
for it may let him down. But that doesn’t mean people will. The government is
one thing. People are another.
People are what I still have faith in.
One day I was on the way home from where ever. There was a homeless guy, much like your guy. Didn't give it a second thought.
ReplyDeleteI pulled into McDonalds for lunch. Instead of ordering the Big Mac meal, large, I ended up ordering four of them. I ate one and as I drove by the homeless guy, I gave him the other three. Tears came to both our eyes.
You rock Ken!
ReplyDeleteGreat thoughts. Faith in the individual
ReplyDelete