When I unpacked my jewelry box last year while getting settled, I found a precious memento from the time my brother Kevin was stateside in the Army, prior to his tour of duty in Vietnam. Pictured on the right is a necklace he found for me at Fort Bragg, in the very early days of his Army career. It's got the official Army medallion affixed to a mother-of-pearl background with a silver filigree embellishment. I remember wearing it a few times to school, and proudly telling classmates how I came to own it. After that, it stayed safely in the jewelry box.
In the years that followed, I joined up with a group of friends (which included my first college boyfriend) in demonstrations against the Vietnam War, including marching in various protest rallies in downtown Los Angeles. Still, the necklace remained in my possession. Unconsciously at that time, I saw it as a reminder that my "big brudda" was in the service to protect my rights to make free life choices, including demonstrating against, or for, whatever. Perhaps knowing that I had this necklace was on my mind when the previously-mentioned boyfriend asked me to sew him a Viet Cong flag, so he could display it in his dorm window. I turned his request down flat, with no discussion.
To the left of the necklace is a medallion of St. Michael, with the Army insignia on the back. I got this recently from a Catholic gift shop in Denver, and was drawn to it for a couple of reasons.
Besides honoring Kevin's service, it is also to remind me of Michael, the saint name I chose last year when I got confirmed at St. Robert Bellarmine in Burbank, just before my move from California to Colorado. Until my mother passed away last February, I'd strongly considered selecting St. Rita as my confirmation name, largely because it had been her saint name.
St. Rita, patroness of the sick and impossible cases. As much as I respected her place in my mother's religious life, was it that really reflective of my own path? As time passed after Mom's death, I began reflecting how other people had often declared, "You're your mother's daughter." Yeah, okay, just what did that mean--and how much room did that leave for me to be my own person?
And there were also the issues I had to deal with at time -- my freedom to get back to full-time work, and the decisions that had to be made about my future. With the pressures building up, I found myself pushing back. A high school friend had, for some time, been urging me to consider moving to Colorado and making a fresh start. All I could ask myself was, "Why not?"
As the reinvention of my life seemed increasingly less "impossible," the less I was relating to St. Rita. I then remembered a list I'd seen online of saints, and seemed to be drawn to St. Michael. In many images I'd seen of him, he was girded with armor and wielding a sword to slay the serpent. I've often thought of the serpent as representing more than just temptation. He can stand for any force that interferes with a person's ability to live life freely and authentically.
So St. Michael it was, as Fr. John laid hands on my head in church on April 19, 2015.
I like Michael's energy and style, and try to incorporate it into my life. And now, with Kevin extremely ill, and his wife Pam mounting a valiant effort to make his life as comfortable as possible, it pains my heart to read her posts. Her gofundme.com page is now more than just an outreach for financial help; she is also opening up about her experience as the wife of a Vietnam veteran. She is attempting to apply for a grant, for which she has been told they are qualified for, but the Veteran's Administration seems to her so distant and overwhelming, that she feels she can't communicate effectively with them. Perhaps if people also read this on my posts, there just might be someone who can assist them. Isn't there anyone -- a case worker, or an advocate -- who can help Pam and Kevin?
Her latest post is at: https://www.gofundme.com/qqkjwszs?utm_source=internal&utm_medium=email&utm_content=cta_button&utm_campaign=upd_n
"Help a Veteran Stay in His Home."
By joining the fight via social media, this is my gesture of love this Valentine's Day.
