Jim…A Memorial Day Story

Jim and Tanner* grew up as childhood friends, so it was only natural that the two of them enlisted  when it was time.

They went through basic training together and before they knew it,  found themselves in the same company on active duty in the Viet Nam

It fell to Jim  to pick the point man for  patrol that morning and he picked his good friend Tanner.

You’re familiar with a point man right?

That’s the guy who is out in front, checking for danger….

Half way into the their mission, Tanner takes a direct hit from a sniper and is killed.

Because of the nature of war, Jim tries to deal with the feelings the best he can..

But they never really go away,  a callous forms over the pain but it’s still there.

20 years later, Jim still struggles with survivor’s guilt…

If only….

If only he had not picked Tanner…then he might never been killed

If only…..

Years go by and Jim needs to take a trip to the East coast.

His route takes  him past the town where Tanner is buried.

A part of him wants to stop and pay his respects,

but another part of him doesn’t.

Jim’s friend Steve encourages him to do it...

“What’s the harm?…you never know, it might do you some good…”

Jim still doesn’t make up his mind until he’s passing through town.

He decides to stop.

He sticks an American flag into the ground next to Tanner’s marker, stuffs his name and address into a small plastic bag, tapes it with electrical tape to the flag pole before he leaves.

When he get’s home,  there is a message on his answering machine.

It’s Tanner’s mother.

She thanks  Jim for making the effort to stop by the grave

She leaves her phone number.

Jim tells all this to his buddy Steve.

Steve asks him if he’s going to call her?

What would she say if she knew I was the one who picked Tanner for the point man position?

What if she knew I was partially responsible for her son’s death?

In the end, through the encouragement of his friend Steve, Jim does return her call and good  come out of it.

Tanner’s family opens their hearts to Jim,  and makes him part of their family.

He fills some of the void that Tanner left behind.

But still there is this dogging dread in the back of Jim’s  mind.

What if they find out the truth??????

Then what?

Steve tells Jim to not think about it, cross that bridge if and when  he comes to it….

One of Tanner’s family s calls Jim to thank him.

Thank him for the healing that he has brought into the life of his mother….

seems that before Jim’s visit, Tanner’s mom would go to the graveside every day.

Didn’t matter if it was raining, or snowing….

every day she grieved….

For 20 years.

She hadn’t been doing that since Jim had come into their lives.

Forth of July, Jim is invited to spend the day with Tanner’s family.

When he get’s there, it’s a full house…all of Tanner’s extended family…aunts and uncles, cousins..the whole clan.

Tanner’s dad mentions they have an awesome pond out behind the house and asks Jim if he would want to try and catch some bass.

As they’re sitting in the boat…just the two of them, the thing he’s been dreading about for 20 yrs happens….

The other shoe drops.

Tanner’s dad asks Jim point blank...”How did Tanner die?”

He wanted the truth

What he was really interested in was knowing if his son had suffered?

Jim tells the dad the whole account…tells how he was shot by a sniper, How it was a head shot, Tanner was gone before he hit the ground.

“Thank you.”  Tanner’s dad tells Jim.

“Thank you for telling me the truth.”

When they get back to the house Tanner’s dad shows Jim a stack of letters from the army.

They talk about Tanner being transferred from one hospital to the next…

Until they finally get a notice that he had died.

“I always wondered what really happened.. his dad said…Now I know, because you were there.”

Because Jim was willing to take a risk and stop, he set in motion a whole bunch of healing.

And none of this might never have happened if not for the gentle encouragement of his friend Steve.

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I (DM) was on the phone this morning talking with Steve.

Steve had called to check up on me.

Told me this story about  Jim.

I told Steve this whole thing reminded me of that movie “It’s A Wonderful Life.”

How  that simplest little act of  kindness  you or I may do can  ripple out and touch a whole bunch of people.

 

“Teach me to number my days that I may get a heart of Wisdom.”

* Tanner was not his real name.

Players

That Sunday morning Lady is a player.

Definition:  Persons with enough nimbleness of mind to accept a surprise invitation to jump into a quick game of imagination.  People with loosey-goosey sense of mischief.  Players are also Laughers.  And you can’t tell  the Players by the way they appear on the outside.

Example:  Here’s a uniform city bus driver standing in the door of his vehicle, staring into the rain.  An invitation from me, passing by:  “OK, Here’s the deal:  I’ll pay for the gas, and you’ll drive us to California to the beach at Santa Monica.”

With a straight face he says, “OK, Meet me here at midnight.  It’s the end of my run and they won’t miss me or the bus until morning.  I’ll get some barbecue.”  He smiles.

A Player.

Consider this lady with a shopping car full of oddball stuff standing beside me in front of the cheese counter at the grocery store.  My invitation:  “I like the groceries in your cart better than mine.  Want to trade?  You take mine and I’ll take yours.  Could be interesting when we get home.”

She smiles.  Checks out my cart.  “You’ve got a deal,”  she says.   We take each other’s carts and roll away.

Later, she’s waiting for me at the check-out counter.  She knows and I know:  We weren’t really going to go through with it.  But those few moments of madness brought new meaning to “going to the store for a few things.”  And the lady knows the game.

A Player.

On the other hand:  There’s a tailor shop on Queen Anne Avenue.  Sign in the window says ALTERATIONS AND REPAIRS FOR MEN AND WOMEN.   The tailor is standing in the doorway.  I stop. ” I’d like to get altered and repaired, “ I say.

She looks at me cautiously.  Goes inside.  Closes the door.

Not a player.

Players may be discreet.  Here’s the charming woman who works at the sidewalk flower stand at the nearby market.  She called me “Babycakes” just before Thanksgiving Day,  but I haven’t seen her since.  Invitation:  “Do I still look like Babycakes to you?” I ask.

She looks at me shrewdly.  “Sir, it is the policy of the store that employees are not to get familiar with customers.”  Oh, too bad,” say I.  She’s no longer a player.  As I turn my back and walk away, she whispers, “Thanks for coming by Babycakes.”

She’s an undercover Player now.

Here’s me again, at a well-known company to pick up copies of a manuscript.  I am visibly annoyed – this is my third trip to get what was promised yesterday.  The anxious clerk, Miss Saucer-eyes, is obviously new to the herd behind the counter and doesn’t know what to do with me or for me.  The work is still not done, despite promises.  Getting mad won’t help.

“OK, I won’t make any trouble, “ I say, “Just give me a really clever, off- the wall creative excuse- the wildest thing you can think of.  Make me laugh and I’ll go away.”

Miss Saucer-eyes is mute.  This situation was not covered in training school last week.  “I’ll speak to my manager.”

Definitely not a Player.  But the story continues.

Miss Saucer-eyes retreats to the back of the shop and consults with her boss, a high-energy, sharply dressed woman, who marches briskly toward me with a steely look.   She leans over the counter and explains:

“Sir, you may not know this, but this store has been a front for the Irish Republican Army for years.  We’re supposed to be turning in our firearms, and it seems a bazooka is missing from the inventory.  When we find the bazooka things will get back to normal.  If I were you, I wouldn’t make any trouble.  just come back tomorrow, OK?”

A big league Player.

One final example:  A double whammy I didn’t see coming.

Clerk in a bookstore- older lady with dyed red hair.

    “Can I help you? she asks.

“Happy birthday,” I say.  (Always makes people smile- sometimes you’re early, sometimes late, but sometimes right on.  An invitation to play)

“Well, I hope you’re coming to my party.”  She says.  “We need someone to jump out of the cake.”

“I’m your man.”

“You’d be expected to go-go dance naked.”

     “Then I’m not your man.”

A Player….

A lady waiting in line behind me overheard this book store babble and drifted away from the counter and out the door.  She missed her chance.

Probably not a Player.

Later, as I walked by the sidewalk table at a nearby coffee-house, I spot the lady who fled the store.  “Sorry, Hope we didn’t annoy you,” I said.

She smiled.  “Oh no,”  she replied.  “It’s just that I jumped out of the cake last year.  It hurts my feelings to think they’re looking for a replacement.”

A Player after all.”

From Robert Fulghum’s book  What on Earth Have I done?

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How about you?

Are you ever  a “player”?

I (DM)  am, on occasion.

It  goes in streaks.

Some days I end up talking with Kris  @ the lumberyard several times.

Just to keep it interesting, I will tell her it’s the Johnson County Sheriff’s department calling.  She  likes to play along.

Think I’m one of the highlights in her day.

So tell me, what is one of the silliest things you’ve ever done?

To my great, great grand daughter…live in peace

I come from hearty stock.

Both my grand parents on my dad’s side made it  into their late 90′s.

Grandpa started his day with  fried potatoes in bacon grease, eggs, and black coffee.

So much for needing to have a healthy diet to live a long life

Grandpa was no angel, loved his chew and strong drink when he could get his hands on it.

I’ve been thinking about him  lately, thinking  I need to set some new long-term goals.

Assuming I live about as long as grandpa, that gives me another 40 plus years this side of eternity.

(I’m currently in my mid 50′s and on track with each so it’s time to  raise the bar)

Here’s a portion of what I wrote  in 1987:

Age 75 I would like to :

-have loved my wife, children, brothers and sisters with no regrets.

-Built a home in countryside- with animals and growing things (ha ha)

- have been faithful to God to the end …ran the race well.

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Since I have been thinking long term, this Song by Sara Groves continues to  haunts me..

(The words are below the video link,  feel free to follow along)

I can taste the fruit of Eve
I’m aware of sickness, death and disease
The results of our choices are vast
Eve was the first but she wasn’t the last

And if I were honest with myself
Had I been standing at that tree
My mouth and my hands would be covered with fruit
Things I shouldn’t know and things I shouldn’t see

Remind me of this with every decision
Generations will reap what I sow
I can pass on a curse or a blessing
To those I will never know

She taught me to fear the serpent
I’m learning to fear myself
And all of the things I am capable of
In my search for wisdom, acceptance and wealth

And to say that the devil made me do it
Is a cop out and a lie
The devil can’t make me do anything
When I’m calling on Jesus Christ

Remind me of this with every decision
Generations will reap what I sow
I can pass on a curse or a blessing
To those I will never know

To my great, great, great grand daughter
Live in peace
To my great, great, great grand son
Live in peace
To my great, great, great grand daughter
Live in peace
To my great, great, great grand son
Live in peace, oh, live in peace

Remind me of this with every decision
Generations will reap what I sow
I can pass on a curse or a blessing
To those I will never know

Oh, remind me
Generations will reap what I sow
I can pass on a curse or a blessing
To those I will never know
Oh, I may never know

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My heart is  heavy  when I think about the  legacy of debt our government leaders seem more than willing to saddle all of us,  especially you,   the next generations.  I was raised to pay my bills as I go,  only borrow as a last resort.

Between me and you, it makes me angry…

Makes me want to curse….I know, you’ve probably heard that Christians are not supposed to feel that way, but  that’s simply not true.

My heart is also heavy when I see how quickly the culture I live  in (it’s 2011 as I write this) continues its mad, downward spiral into  decadence.

Even I feel the  pressure.

Not a day goes by that I don’t think of you and the world you’ll wake up in.

Love, your great, great, grandfather, Douglas Jon

PS.  If you’re reading this and there are things in your life that you do regret,  the good news is, God loves to take the broken pieces of our lives and use them for good.  If you need some examples let me know, I didn’t want to preach   DM