All of me, Here. Now

“You have to take responsibility for NOT JUST YOUR PART IN THE WAR…But all of it.” — Phil Klay

I

I no longer believe in the sins of the father.

The son, becoming his own man someday must realize

that he like, his father is his own man. Even though they share

the same blood, we, he, I do NOT HAVE TO SHARE THE SAME

DESTINY. Or desires to change the world.

What does that even mean now?

It is a phrase.

As malleable as clay, and every good win before or after.

II

I have made my peace with the war.

Or at least that war, that is now

almost 13 years old.

I have said all that I can say about it.

And until I have learned much more,

I will say nothing less.

Then… I have made my steady,

Unsteady, rumbling of peace with it.

To accept that this world is beautiful,

and cruel — and yet nothing is absolute.

I am not the same young girl who patrolled

and deployed. I wish to inspire now what I could

not years past.

I remembered to remember there was more to me than

the desert, or the bombs. Or the cool, blue-black silence. I have

met those things before, in another lifetime same as this.

My youth.

When I begged to be loved with outstretched hands.

And my hopes were denied. Again, it was so absolute then

too. One way or the other.

How wrong I was! Those are the thoughts of a child.

Both wars taught me to hate myself. Because I wasn’t

good enough.

Or so I thought.

Last night though, my young neighbor

Who has troubles with her father confided

in me. How his tunnel vision has destroyed

her love for him.

I thought of those things.

And rejoiced and sighed.

No matter what, I am here now.

For my daughter.

For my neighbor,

For those who I see as “family”

And that is a spiral,

a cord.

Something unbreakable and eternal.

III

Men care too much for legacy.

They work to set their mark on the world.

My legacy is already inscribed.

It is carried in the blood.

As my mother and father’s before me.

As my offspring’s offspring thereafter.

I have learned that fame, prestige,

hopes and failures all are the same in one

life.

I’d rather share my stories with you.

Then, you recall my legacy.

I gave up on such fables. Long, long

ago. Or was it just last year, that I learned such

a thing? Such a lesson?