This morning I went to work. Before I got to work, I had to drive there. Before I started driving, I turned on CBC Radio and listened to The Current.
This morning I tuned into a father talking about the loss of his son in Afghanistan. It was, to say the least, emotional. There I am slowing rolling down Southland Dr., trying my best not to break into tears, as a father reads a letter to his deceased son. He talks about the last walk and talk they had. His son spoke of his worries about combat, faith and his family. The father shares that last moment when his son is departing and they don’t want to break eye contact. The father is sorry for not saying more.
There’s a lump in my throat. Probably some combination of guilt, sadness, grief and a few other emotions. I am guilty because I am sitting there worried about whether or not the person next to me is going to think I’m totally crazy—sitting alone, crying in rush hour. And then it happens. They start to read the names of each of the 100 Canadian soldiers who died and their age. And all of a sudden 100 become incredibly important. How could anything else ever matter more?
I react very poorly to war, to death. I feel such grief and frustration. Powerlessness.
You have no idea how important it was for me to read this message. Often we hear about how people are being desensitized to war and death through the glorification and trivialization of war in movies, TV and video games. As someone approaching 60 I have often wondered if Gen X’s, Y’s and the generations follow will really grasp the devastating results of war. I should know better but you still manage to surprise me every once and awhile with your perception and understanding.
@Dad – I listened to a follow-up of that program and it seems as though it touched a lot of people. I think you can feel safe in the knowledge that we Gen-Y’ers are very sensitive.
I agree with Rhett, very sensitive!!
cd