Today my story ‘Memorial Day’ is posted at Substack. Read it here.
Among early childhood memories are my two grandfathers, at different times, pointing out to me the greyish dots in their forearms; both had been hit by shrapnel in WWI. My dad and uncle were in WWII, my dad followed the front-line in Italy, stringing phone lines. He camped in mud for a year. My uncle, who joined the Navy at 17 (I think) was a signal guy on ships. During that time he contracted tuberculosis from which it would take him a year to recover. I didn’t learn nearly enough of their experiences but I did understand those years were tough and dangerous and they were glad to have survived.
My brother Paul was a medic near Hue in Vietnam; I still have his letters. He mentions in one how weird it was to watch movies. They sat on folding chairs inside the camp as missiles were shot off over their heads, into the far distance.
I was in my 30’s and writing about Paul when, in a powerful realization, I understood I was a veteran, too. Anyone who has memories of a family member in the military and in harm’s way has come through their own trauma. Hearing your mom cry very quietly in a different room. Seeing her white knuckles when Vietnam news comes on the TV. Being a person with no power while the best part of one’s life seems on the edge of burning.
I started “Memorial Day back last December. I didn’t know then it was going to be about the loss and trauma associated with military service, I thought it was going to be about the two siblings who don’t like each other. But what one thinks one is going to write and what actually happens when characters start talking to each other – that’s why I love this even when it takes six months to finish one story.
Anyways, I thought you might like to know where this story started.
I hope your weekend is a good one.
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