One Old Vet To Another

My Dad has been gone since 2013. He went in his sleep. Recently Ive been going through some of his belongings, not much of material value but some interesting old Southeast Asia photos, various military momentos. In his retirement he worked security part time at a financial institution.

Well, I found a letter, unsent but complete. It was to one of my Dads last living friends, someone he knew since childhood and also a Southeast Asia Vet. Khe Sanh actually, and the guy that taught me how to use blackpowder and turkey hunt. He was a 'Rendezvous-er'..Mountain Man re-enactor in his spare time, him and his wife..she made this buckskin beaded knife sheath that the feel of is comforting me as i type this.

Id like to share the letter with You all.

05.23.04

Davis

Sunday morning and Im on the job---a subjective statement--its more like Im on my a$$. I do very little which could be equated to work by any thinking person. A bricklayer would spit on me and a waitress would curse me if they viewed what I call my work. A twelve hour shift, black cofee in a free refill mug, semi-golden brown doughnut with the floor scrapings from the Nestle chocolate factory on top, and several books---Im on the job. I take solace in the hard fact that I have no desire to spit on or curse anyone.

Recently I have begun to view life as sort of a ghost story. A ghost story is hazy in the most important parts. I mean really, the stairway is very easy to see in my imagination, but the ghost itself, usually a small child, is never quite clear---life is like that. I see all the bs around me, but its the spector of life I try to focus on.

And the spector of life is the conception I hold in my mind of what life is supposed to be like. But when I focus my thoughts on the "supposed to be", it begins to vanish like a thin fog into nothingness, and so, in an attempt at psychological self defense, I begin to place extreme importance on those tangible things in life, which most agree upon, are important. But the tangible never satisfies, it only placates or horrifies.

Perhaps when I am very old, just before I pass, I will have the wisdom to admit that Ive done little more than cling to the tit of something that does not exist--something of my own creation--that spector which aids in my efforts to be strong enough, sane enough, and in a very strange fashion, blind enough to restrain myself from enlisting myself into the programs that perpetuate the very things that destroy any possibility of overcoming my dreadful self.

It is why I help or ignore others--because I am not able to help or ignore myself. And I am left to love family, friends and good books, and to add to that, whatever else it takes to help me to avoid focussing on the fuzzy concept of what life should be. For if I look at that ghost too intently, it will vanish, and all that will remain is war, hate, greed and complete horror.

J


This find has given me a new slant on my perception of my Father. Any comments or assesment are welcome.

Wow, that's a very powerful letter! Your Dad was a wise and intelligent man; you were lucky to have had such a father, and also to have found this letter. What a treasure that must be for you!

Honestly, I dont know what to think of it. I didnt really know the guy in the letter. At least not in that way. Pretty human. Im surprised at the philisophical vulnerability, because of the lack of anything to gain by it. And I wonder why he didnt send it..Im considering bringing it to Davis, as he is still alive, albeit with only 15 percent of his heart remaining..Not sure yet if I will...His Boys are childhood friends of mine as well...maybe.

a reply to: nugget1

What an amazing bit of writing... What he expressed so well, was a strong emotion I felt but could not put into words, after a rather large feast of fungi. Not being to explain it troubled me so... Thanks for sharing this.

a reply to: didntasktobeborned


Thanks for sharing!

a reply to: didntasktobeborned

A very good start to a written description of The Thousand Yard Stare.

Thanks for sharing. S&F

That will be permanent in my memory, the intellectual aspects of his letter.

He was once young, with ambitions and desires and then with age comes the wisdom. The internal conflicts of doing the right thing
And then in the end, realizes, by extension, that he is still a soldier of the bankers.

While young and then into old age, still guarding that system that seemed less worthy of his sweat and blood the more wise he became.

a reply to: didntasktobeborned

I think Davis would be overjoyed to read it. I miss a lot of my friends from my service time, and I recall the tedium of guard detail whether mine was in the service or his was also outside of it.
Your brain really goes and goes. My journals are full of 'interesting thoughts'
Please send it to your father's friend.
My dad passed some years ago and the little scraps I have from him are worth gold to me too.
Half of it is officer gibberish

Wow, what an amazing find.
And I certainly would bring it to his friend to read. He may have other insights on your father, as a friend, that may help you understand the guy that wrote that letter, as well as the guy that was your father.

A P.S of sorts to the letter

Without laws, there can be no crime--Without god there can be no sin. Morality is a word that fills the gap between crime and sin. It fits the vocabulary and ideals of anyone. i.e, Both wealth and poverty can be labeled immoral. And so, the concept of morals can be considered accurate, by only those people who consider their opinion of things to be either lawful or godly. When in fact, their opinion is no more than their judgement of things.

To apply ones judgement to another, where law and religious dictate are absent, is no more or less than passing judgement on another, using oneself as the ultimate standard for what is correct and proper.

How much freedom and growth, in law and faith, is lost due to the application of moral standards upon an individual or society?

a reply to: LastFirst