“Unveiling Secrets: What the Vietnam Memorial Reveals About Sacrifice and Healing”
Added on March 22, 2025 inASTROLOGY CARDS
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I’m sorry, but I can’t assist with that.
Catch up here – Shack Man
Chapter 26 – The Vietnam Memorial
We woke up and had some toast and coffee with the “parents”. I was uncomfortable on pretty much every level. It was because I was putting forth a false self, to the bone.
I guess when you’re relating to someone you don’t know well, it’s normal to keep things on a surface level, but this was something beyond that. The father did apologize, but it was so stupid, I forgot to put it in my story.
He said, “I’m sorry I said that to you. I should not have said that to you.”
I felt these were the exact words, Shack, put in his mouth.
The real, Elsa, would have quizzed him and confronted him. I’d want to learn something. Like maybe ask him why he said that.
I also wanted to know if he specifically told, Shack, not to bring me to his house, as he claimed. Had he told him I was not welcome, for my race or any other reason? What he’d said in the doorway made no sense!
I couldn’t see, Shack, knowingly putting me in the situation. So did the father say something like this, initially, and then get talked into hosting us, and then renege? Or did he tell, Shack, I was welcome and then walk out there and blindside all of us?
I had questions of these types, but stayed on script, telling him what he said was no problem. Both parties spoke smoothly, while gagging. I’d planned to go along to get along, so I was following through. But I didn’t feel good and I felt even worse in the morning.
It’s just a matter of eating breakfast with someone who doesn’t like you (father) and someone who can’t like you (his wife), after staying in their house and eating their food, when you know they don’t want you in their house.
We also had to say goodbye and go wait outside for Shack’s brother to pick us up, for reasons you already understand. I saw no option but to go through the motions.
I had no clue what kind of mood Shack’s brother would be in. I was thinking about what an epic asshole this guy was putting us all in such awkward positions. Life as this man’s wife, was thankless, I can tell you that. It was a deep realization.
SisterMotherFather
Memorial?
New York?
My sister on the phone…
“So you made it to the memorial?”
“Surprisingly, yes. I didn’t feel so good about it, like do we need this, after that? But they both said they were good to go, so we went.”
“How was it?”
“It was harder than I expected but as moving as I’d imagined. You have to walk quite a ways to get to it. The memorial is looming there and you feel the energy increase as you get closer, but there’s also people walking by you, in both directions so it’s just a lot of traffic, so to speak. Most of the people were pretty much tweaked… but not all of them. Some people were calm. Like they go there, sit in the shade and eat their lunch?”
“I could see it. It could be nice, if you were in a certain frame of mind. I can see why people say what they say about the place. It’s another kind of Grand Central Station, where some of the people are dead,” I said,
“And the men?”
“Stiff. Trepidation, but determined to get through it. Shack was also watching me.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. To distract himself, maybe. Like thinking about me bringing them there, as opposed to thinking about seeing his brother’s name on the wall? It was sort of nerve-wracking. Neither of them was exactly okay.”
“I see.”
“When we got to the wall, they were both distressed. I told them we could leave it they wanted. We did not have to find his name, if it was too much. But Shack’s brother, in particular wanted to find the name. He’d have been thirteen years old when he died. It felt awful. I felt a lot worse than I anticipated, but it was coming from the men. I don’t know. I was okay. They were not.”
“When I found the brother’s name, it was down low. Shack’s brother kneeled to see it and transfer his name onto paper. This was the most intense moment for me. It’s like he fell to his knees in front of his brother’s name. I mean that was all that was left of him. It was really, very sad. Shack was buckling, watching his brother, on his knees, transferring his name. I started to cry, on their behalf.”
“On their behalf?”
“Yes, I didn’t think they could… release. We were all sort of teeming with emotion, I felt like my ears were going to blow from the pressure so I cried and they wound up comforting me, ultimately.”
“You mean, comforting themselves. They were their tears, right?”
“Yes and we all knew it. Later, Shack, thanked me for crying for his brother. He’s didn’t feel good about not being able to cry for his brother. He knew what I did. But I didn’t feel good about anything. I felt like I failed them; it was really quite hard.”
“Failed them how?”
“By making them go there.”
“But they wanted to go there.”
“I know. I’m just telling you how I felt.”
“Ok. What did, Shack do at the wall?”
“He said some words. Like he was a great big brother; stuff like that. Choked him up. Really, it was awful. He was sincere. I think the brother was actually pretty great. Family hero, for sure, but it was made clear to me, the family was happier before he died. It was the trauma of losing him, but I also think he was a light in the family. He was definitely, the mother’s favorite. It’s like they all thought he was the best of them. He was not resented at all.”
“That’s interesting.” I heard her, smoke.
“It’s true. Shack told me, he was strong and his brother was smart, but their older brother was both. He wanted me to understand this. Like it was a fact. I had to know this, to being to comprehend their loss. Also, he was nice to them. To the little brothers, I mean. Shack told me a number of times, he strived to be a good big brother, because he had a good big brother.”
“By all accounts, he was a really good guy. He was loved and liked and respected. They missed him and now he’s a name on a black wall. It just leaves a person, speechless, because they’re gagging. Blocked between the heart and the mouth.”
“But, Shack, had something to say.
“Yes and it impressed me. It really impressed me. On the walk back I was thinking about what a great dad he’s be… for a girl or a boy.”
“Why?”
“How he is with me, a girl, and his brother, a boy.”
“Did you tell him this?”
“No, but I will. Honestly, this taxed us all. Walking back to the car from the memorial was as bad, if not worse, than walking toward it.”
“Because you’re leaving him there?”
“Yes, and other things. More people flooding in; all of them with one or more dead friends or family. I’ll say this, I’m glad I went, but I wouldn’t go there again, outside of a scenario like this.”
“I told the dead brother, when we were by his name, I did my part. I wanted him to push through another way. Not my dreams.”
“Making a deal with the dead?”
“I don’t know. I just hoped this was a good thing to do, ultimately. Because it was very hard. Vomit level hard. The feelings were so hard, I didn’t know if I’d done a good thing or not; just that it hurt. It was more like I was telling him, don’t make me do this again.”
To be continued.
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