This week one of my coworkers came rushing over to tell a couple of us the breaking news on how Heath Ledger died-- by pills. I didn't know of Heath, never heard of the guy, but figured it was someone I should know like Britney Spears or Brad Pitt. So I asked, "Does Heath work in the Finance Department or something?" I got a huge *sigh* from the Ledger fan and he proceeded to inform me, like I was a dunce, about this very important Brokeback Mountain hero. We should be sad any time we hear of someone's untimely death. Yet this week, every thing I turn whether it's the radio or TV channel or the magazine page, we are inundated with info about Heath, a man I really don't want information on.
Instead I want to know about the real heroes, the ones who are not playing pretend on a fake mountains, but are breaking their backs on real mountains and deserts. Doing the real hard work of making the world a better place. Some of them died this week and why are we not, at the very least, equally focused with their generosity, gift, sorrow and hug their families deep inside our hearts? Sadly, this week, it seems most of America forgot all of the real heroes and worshipped instead the loss of a seemingly deeply confused man who merely read a script.
I share instead some more important quotes from people out there in the world, doing life's hard work, the real work of figuring things out...
Here is a quote from a post on Iraq the Model, where an Iraqi writer discusses the complexity of Iraqi politics and the battle for its democracy. Apparently his comments struck a nerve or chord with many people, as he spurred 2,175 comments, both for and against his remarks. I share his closing paragragh -- all a glimpse of democracy forming in Iraq, a democracy being fought for by real heroes, even while much of America selfishly distracts themselves back home with fake ones.
Our moderate politicians-I prefer to call them “less radical” politicians — might not like this in the future but I doubt they would be able to stop the moving wheel of evolution. The beautiful nature of democracy and power-sharing is that concessions will always be made in order to preserve both; the system for the state and the best possible position for the groups within.
Then I also share this, from one of our troops, a man on his third visit to Afghanistan, a place I have not yet visited, and probably never will. Thus I read their words, to live vicariously and to understand. But this Master Sergeant reminds me I probably never will. He writes about sitting down for coffee with his friends in Kabul:
It was there we ran into our other acquaintances that had flown in (two from Al Udeid, one from Bagram) to help train as well, so we all sat down, kicked back while enjoying a tall Macchiato coffee and shared “war stories.”
...a prior Afghanistan & Iraq veteran like Bixby and I, however, his vehicle was struck with an I.E.D. (hidden roadside bomb) a few years ago and now walks around with a glass eye and visible scars. He begged to remain in the Air Force and in his career field and after much rehabilitation, it was granted. He is an incredible individual and it was a pleasure to get to know him and share stories. It’s these kind of guys that you truly feel uninhibited with while sharing your “own” stories because there is an element of “been there, done that” that you just can’t explain to someone who has no idea. There was a Lieutenant Colonel and a Staff Sergeant also from Al Udeid there and we all laughed and sipped on our coffee, killing time with our stories of the funnier side of war that we’ve all experienced. I can’t explain it, but there is a healing power in rare moments like that. As much as you try to convey to friends and family what it is like to live in a combat zone and live through the gamut of emotions that is “war”, you resolve to yourself that it just isn’t possible. So not having to “prefix” a conversation like that with fellow veterans is nice because that element is already understood. You can skip right past it all and get to the story because they are already feeling what you’re feeling as you recount those past episodes.
It’s not the food I’m there for….. it’s the relationships and the memories and the added benefit of momentarily forgetting that we are stuck here, in another country… away from our kids…our family….. our comfy world as we know it.
To all you real heroes, I feel sorry when you take the back seat to fake ones, but then I remember you never ever are in the back seat. You're the ones driving the future, the ones making this place better, the ones who can say they broke their back on real mountains in life. So while those fools are hanging out like slugs in the back seat, the rest of us press on the gas and speed on ahead into the real world. Heroes do so despite knowing first hand how difficult it is to leave a comfy world and how annoying it is to be media-sidelined due to the spectator slugs in the back seat who simply have no clue. I hope the real heroes remember, there are those like me who call you our hero and who ask you out for coffee or wish to treat you to coffee, even if we know we don't understand, and even as you speed past us too.
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