Saturday, February 27, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Tears of the Children
by Janet J. Seahorn
Normally our blog focuses on the effects of combat trauma to military personnel, their families, friends, and communities. Today is moving to the broader devastation of trauma. Trauma not caused by war and hate, but by nature. Trauma, that even with the greatest technological advances of man, cannot be halted or many times even predicted beforehand. Such is the current state of Haiti.
For me the effects of war trauma on children may be even worse, because it is not due to outside forces of nature, but hate, greed, or lack of compassion for others. Hate which is colored by the darkness of men's hearts and even nation's souls. Unlike nature, the torture and killings go on for years, with little hope of relief.
In Haiti, however, what we continue to see are a people doing what they can to help their neighbors and communities. Yes, there is looting and even violence. Desperate people act in desperate ways when one's life, and the lives of one's families are at stake. Fighting for the every day things most of us take for granted: water, food, a safe place to sleep, medical care... and the list grows.
When looking at the photos of children, I can't help but wonder what are they able to understand about this terrible event? How can they make sense of horror? In a country where hundreds of thousands of children were abandoned before the earthquake, who will take care of these babies and children now? Who will hold and comfort them? Who will help to explain the experience and give them the physical and emotional support to heal?
What we currently know about childhood trauma is that it can be more difficult to heal. The brain has not connected the higher order neural networks that help adults sort out the facts of any event. Adults have far more coping skills. Children, have far fewer in their young minds. They have not lived long enough or had enough experiences to compare or sort out the hues of trauma. Their world is very concrete - what one sees is what one understands at a very concrete level.
We used to believe if a terrible act happened early in life, the person could more easily mend. Current neuroscience has proven this belief is a highly inaccurate myth. The earlier the trauma on a young brain, the worse the effects can be if the child is not given the physical and emotionally support needed for healing. Healing that will allowed the child to grow in a world where he/she can still feel safe. Healing that offers hope and resilience from future traumas because they were loved, comforted, and supported when they so desperately need these acts of security.
Therefore, keep all of our children in your hearts and prayers, whether they are in Haiti, Afghanistan, or your own neighborhood. Pray for the mending of our children's bodies, minds, and hearts. They are the world's future. We must do all that is necessary to try to ensure that their future is built on a foundation of compassion, kindness, and humanity.
Normally our blog focuses on the effects of combat trauma to military personnel, their families, friends, and communities. Today is moving to the broader devastation of trauma. Trauma not caused by war and hate, but by nature. Trauma, that even with the greatest technological advances of man, cannot be halted or many times even predicted beforehand. Such is the current state of Haiti.
For me the effects of war trauma on children may be even worse, because it is not due to outside forces of nature, but hate, greed, or lack of compassion for others. Hate which is colored by the darkness of men's hearts and even nation's souls. Unlike nature, the torture and killings go on for years, with little hope of relief.
In Haiti, however, what we continue to see are a people doing what they can to help their neighbors and communities. Yes, there is looting and even violence. Desperate people act in desperate ways when one's life, and the lives of one's families are at stake. Fighting for the every day things most of us take for granted: water, food, a safe place to sleep, medical care... and the list grows.
When looking at the photos of children, I can't help but wonder what are they able to understand about this terrible event? How can they make sense of horror? In a country where hundreds of thousands of children were abandoned before the earthquake, who will take care of these babies and children now? Who will hold and comfort them? Who will help to explain the experience and give them the physical and emotional support to heal?
What we currently know about childhood trauma is that it can be more difficult to heal. The brain has not connected the higher order neural networks that help adults sort out the facts of any event. Adults have far more coping skills. Children, have far fewer in their young minds. They have not lived long enough or had enough experiences to compare or sort out the hues of trauma. Their world is very concrete - what one sees is what one understands at a very concrete level.
We used to believe if a terrible act happened early in life, the person could more easily mend. Current neuroscience has proven this belief is a highly inaccurate myth. The earlier the trauma on a young brain, the worse the effects can be if the child is not given the physical and emotionally support needed for healing. Healing that will allowed the child to grow in a world where he/she can still feel safe. Healing that offers hope and resilience from future traumas because they were loved, comforted, and supported when they so desperately need these acts of security.
Therefore, keep all of our children in your hearts and prayers, whether they are in Haiti, Afghanistan, or your own neighborhood. Pray for the mending of our children's bodies, minds, and hearts. They are the world's future. We must do all that is necessary to try to ensure that their future is built on a foundation of compassion, kindness, and humanity.
“DUTY, HONOR, SACRIFICE”
Guest Post by John DiCiacco:
(A brother, a friend, and a combat veteran)
This was taken from a book I recently read titled "DUTY, HONOR, SACRIFICE" written by Ralph Christopher. It is about the Brown Water Sailors and the Army River Raiders I served with in Vietnam.
The following was written in 1985 by Terry Sater who served aboard one of the PBR's in the Mekong Delta. He was upset after hearing that one of his shipmates from Tango 6 had not fared well after the war.
His wife suggested that he should forget the war and get on with his life. So he stayed up late that night trying to figure out how to explain it all to her. The next morning Terry gave his wife this poem.
It reads:
She said, "Why not forget it? It happened so long ago."
The deepest wounds, cut to the heart, will always heal slow.
The nightmare of the Mekong, of death, despair and fear,
Could not be left in Vietnam, its fresh, its crisp, its here.
My body's strong. My mind is sound. I suffer from no pain.
But once a man has been to war, he's never quite the same.
For I know war for what it is, no glory in the fight.
It's friends who die, and crippled kids, and voices crying in the night.
I know the chill of monsoon rain, the heat of tropic sun.
For some it never happened, and most will never know,
Except for those who fought the war. It happened long ago.
(A brother, a friend, and a combat veteran)
This was taken from a book I recently read titled "DUTY, HONOR, SACRIFICE" written by Ralph Christopher. It is about the Brown Water Sailors and the Army River Raiders I served with in Vietnam.
The following was written in 1985 by Terry Sater who served aboard one of the PBR's in the Mekong Delta. He was upset after hearing that one of his shipmates from Tango 6 had not fared well after the war.
His wife suggested that he should forget the war and get on with his life. So he stayed up late that night trying to figure out how to explain it all to her. The next morning Terry gave his wife this poem.
It reads:
She said, "Why not forget it? It happened so long ago."
The deepest wounds, cut to the heart, will always heal slow.
The nightmare of the Mekong, of death, despair and fear,
Could not be left in Vietnam, its fresh, its crisp, its here.
My body's strong. My mind is sound. I suffer from no pain.
But once a man has been to war, he's never quite the same.
For I know war for what it is, no glory in the fight.
It's friends who die, and crippled kids, and voices crying in the night.
I know the chill of monsoon rain, the heat of tropic sun.
For some it never happened, and most will never know,
Except for those who fought the war. It happened long ago.
Love Heals
by Janet J. Seahorn
This week is the week of the Heart. Yep, lots of hearts in the multiple shapes and shades of Valentine cards. This is the week --- some focus only on one day --- to call forth the power of Love. Sounds, corny, but it is true. Love heals.
One only needs to watch a small child with a skinned knee crying for comfort. Mom enfolds the tiny tot in her arms, puts a band aid on the boo boo, kisses it gently, and soothingly says to her child, "See all better". And the child believes. Wow! If the emotional counselors are correct, what we focus on we get. Perhaps we should try to focus on Love, even for a day. Test the statement, "Love Heals".
Love Heals acts of war...
Guns, bombs, and torture certainly don't.
Love Heals violent acts of countless forms.
I may never forget a terrible act, but maybe I can get to a bit of forgiveness.
Love Heals our physical and emotional pain.
Ask a pet owner of the power of his precious companion.
Love heals our fears.
"Worry is simply the habit of focusing on what we don't want." (January 22, 2010, Daily Word)
Through the strength of the Heart, Love Heals. And like that small child, I choose to believe.
This week is the week of the Heart. Yep, lots of hearts in the multiple shapes and shades of Valentine cards. This is the week --- some focus only on one day --- to call forth the power of Love. Sounds, corny, but it is true. Love heals.
One only needs to watch a small child with a skinned knee crying for comfort. Mom enfolds the tiny tot in her arms, puts a band aid on the boo boo, kisses it gently, and soothingly says to her child, "See all better". And the child believes. Wow! If the emotional counselors are correct, what we focus on we get. Perhaps we should try to focus on Love, even for a day. Test the statement, "Love Heals".
Love Heals acts of war...
Guns, bombs, and torture certainly don't.
Love Heals violent acts of countless forms.
I may never forget a terrible act, but maybe I can get to a bit of forgiveness.
Love Heals our physical and emotional pain.
Ask a pet owner of the power of his precious companion.
Love heals our fears.
"Worry is simply the habit of focusing on what we don't want." (January 22, 2010, Daily Word)
Through the strength of the Heart, Love Heals. And like that small child, I choose to believe.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Tears of a Warrior
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
2010 New Year’s Wishes
Posted: 06 Jan 2010 05:00 AM PST
by Janet J. Seahorn
It’s already time for a brand New Year
Filled with new hope, dreams and some cheer.
For many their prospects are filled with great joy
While others the forecast may seem a bit grim.
Perhaps we can change the Year 20 and 10
And make it a season for our world to mend.
A year of forgiving,
A year of great love,
One of abundance sent from above.
A year without conflict,
A year where wars end,
A time where the goodness of angels commend.
A year of good fortune,
A year without hate,
When lies and untruths and battles abate.
A year where one’s word
Can be totally trusted,
Where nothing is left but goodwill and justice.
A year without fear,
A year where we’ve learned
Those rainbows are just around the next turn.
A year where we find
That we are not lost,
That life must be lived no matter the cost.
A year that we take
One step at a time
Trusting to see and feel the sublime.
A very deep breath
And we’re on our way
To making each moment a true New Year’s Day.
May your coming year be filled with love,
safe-keeping and prosperity.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
2010 New Year’s Wishes
Posted: 06 Jan 2010 05:00 AM PST
by Janet J. Seahorn
It’s already time for a brand New Year
Filled with new hope, dreams and some cheer.
For many their prospects are filled with great joy
While others the forecast may seem a bit grim.
Perhaps we can change the Year 20 and 10
And make it a season for our world to mend.
A year of forgiving,
A year of great love,
One of abundance sent from above.
A year without conflict,
A year where wars end,
A time where the goodness of angels commend.
A year of good fortune,
A year without hate,
When lies and untruths and battles abate.
A year where one’s word
Can be totally trusted,
Where nothing is left but goodwill and justice.
A year without fear,
A year where we’ve learned
Those rainbows are just around the next turn.
A year where we find
That we are not lost,
That life must be lived no matter the cost.
A year that we take
One step at a time
Trusting to see and feel the sublime.
A very deep breath
And we’re on our way
To making each moment a true New Year’s Day.
May your coming year be filled with love,
safe-keeping and prosperity.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Return to Vietnam
Dear Friends,
I share this message with a select few of my closest friends.
Already a year has passed since my return to Vietnam.
The reflection still seems like yesterday...
Tony
Return To Vietnam
Vietnam Memorial
Vietnam Wall
January 2009:
The drive from Halong Bay inland to Hanoi takes over three hours. I feel unsettled and somewhat apprehensive about making the trip into the communist capital city of Vietnam.
Yes, I know the war is over, but that alone doesn’t remove the lingering memories of Ho Chi Minh’s North Vietnamese Army (NVA) assaulting the South by the thousands. Since the French Army’s loss at the battle of Dien Bien Phu, Uncle Ho was determined to overrun South Vietnam and spread communism throughout the entire country. Saigon was the ultimate target, but thousands of battles would occur before that objective was met.
We have named that difficult and tragic time in American history the Vietnam War. The Vietnamese call it the American War - which allows them to distinguish that ten-year period from all the other wars - the war against the Chinese, the French, Japan during WWII, and then again the French, and finally against America. JFK had asked a nation “Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country.”
In 1968, I found myself, along with thousands of other American youth answering that calling - we were patriotic - proud to serve our country. I was a young army officer at 21, older than most. How soon we would all age beyond our years.
Somehow, driving into Hanoi all these years later seemed unpatriotic. The country has been opened to tourism, albeit with a multitude of restrictions associated with communist rule. We visited Ho Chi Minh’s Mausoleum where his body has been immortalized for all to see since his death in 1969. Next we visited the Hoa Lo prison, “Hanoi Hilton”, where several hundred American pilots were tortured and held captive, including John McCain.
The photos in the Hanoi Hilton showed prisoners in various scenes “enjoying” their captivity. The propaganda was obvious to those of us who understood the realism of war, but to some of the more gullible tourists, the fabricated “upscale” conditions of the prison were impressive.
I was relieved and glad to leave the suffocating environment of Hanoi.
Later in the week, we moved southward into Danang and Hue, that portion of Vietnam below the DMZ more familiar to Americans - especially for those who served during the war. The battles of Khe Sanh, the Rockpile, Hue, and Operation Rolling Thunder are all too familiar. Although I was stationed further southwest along the South Vietnam / Cambodia Border, I had flown into the airfield at Danang. The sea of military vehicles and personnel are long gone, but the area looked much the same as I remembered it. Considerable development has occurred south of Danang and adjacent to China Beach, but much of the city appeared relatively unchanged from decades prior. The ridge line to the west of Danang, toward Dai La Pass, still was draped in clouds and looked as ominous as ever. And yes, the Viet Cong where still there, only today everyone is under communist rule so we no longer have to anguish over the dilemma of friend or foe.
Two days later, we arrived in Saigon (Ho Chi Minh City) although most of us still call it Saigon as do the residents of Vietnam. We drove past the Tan Son Nhut airport and moved into the city proper. Following a tour of Saigon and visiting the war museum, which featured a U.S. Army Uh-1 helicopter, an F-5 Air force fighter, a Sky hawk, and an army tank - all displaying a large emblem of the communist red star painted over the U.S. insignia.
That was enough tourist attraction for me…
Jan and I walked past the noted Continental Hotel and stopped at the Rex for an afternoon break.
The rooftop view from the outdoor lounge of the Rex Hotel allowed a panoramic glimpse of the city. We ordered a Saigon Sling and a Manhattan which somehow seemed appropriate. As I mellow-out and reflect on the war, I couldn’t help but remember all who had made the supreme sacrifice and had not returned home. As if it was yesterday, I remember my friend Bill McAtee from Hanna. We had been in contact and planned to meet in Lai Khe, my division base camp, in early December. The reunion never happened. Within three days of our meeting, I was wounded in action and Bill was killed. And of course there were many others. I also reflect on my high school and college classmates whose lives would forever be changed by the war. There was Bob Nichols, George Patton, Bill Blom, Steve Hamann, Dick Butler, John DiCiacco, Eric Snoeberger, Mike MacDonald, Bill Bellamy, and the list goes on…
Today, on my birthday atop the Rex Hotel in downtown Saigon, I remember and celebrate their service to our country. Somehow I would like to think we made a difference.
I share this message with a select few of my closest friends.
Already a year has passed since my return to Vietnam.
The reflection still seems like yesterday...
Tony
Return To Vietnam
Vietnam Memorial
Vietnam Wall
January 2009:
The drive from Halong Bay inland to Hanoi takes over three hours. I feel unsettled and somewhat apprehensive about making the trip into the communist capital city of Vietnam.
Yes, I know the war is over, but that alone doesn’t remove the lingering memories of Ho Chi Minh’s North Vietnamese Army (NVA) assaulting the South by the thousands. Since the French Army’s loss at the battle of Dien Bien Phu, Uncle Ho was determined to overrun South Vietnam and spread communism throughout the entire country. Saigon was the ultimate target, but thousands of battles would occur before that objective was met.
We have named that difficult and tragic time in American history the Vietnam War. The Vietnamese call it the American War - which allows them to distinguish that ten-year period from all the other wars - the war against the Chinese, the French, Japan during WWII, and then again the French, and finally against America. JFK had asked a nation “Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country.”
In 1968, I found myself, along with thousands of other American youth answering that calling - we were patriotic - proud to serve our country. I was a young army officer at 21, older than most. How soon we would all age beyond our years.
Somehow, driving into Hanoi all these years later seemed unpatriotic. The country has been opened to tourism, albeit with a multitude of restrictions associated with communist rule. We visited Ho Chi Minh’s Mausoleum where his body has been immortalized for all to see since his death in 1969. Next we visited the Hoa Lo prison, “Hanoi Hilton”, where several hundred American pilots were tortured and held captive, including John McCain.
The photos in the Hanoi Hilton showed prisoners in various scenes “enjoying” their captivity. The propaganda was obvious to those of us who understood the realism of war, but to some of the more gullible tourists, the fabricated “upscale” conditions of the prison were impressive.
I was relieved and glad to leave the suffocating environment of Hanoi.
Later in the week, we moved southward into Danang and Hue, that portion of Vietnam below the DMZ more familiar to Americans - especially for those who served during the war. The battles of Khe Sanh, the Rockpile, Hue, and Operation Rolling Thunder are all too familiar. Although I was stationed further southwest along the South Vietnam / Cambodia Border, I had flown into the airfield at Danang. The sea of military vehicles and personnel are long gone, but the area looked much the same as I remembered it. Considerable development has occurred south of Danang and adjacent to China Beach, but much of the city appeared relatively unchanged from decades prior. The ridge line to the west of Danang, toward Dai La Pass, still was draped in clouds and looked as ominous as ever. And yes, the Viet Cong where still there, only today everyone is under communist rule so we no longer have to anguish over the dilemma of friend or foe.
Two days later, we arrived in Saigon (Ho Chi Minh City) although most of us still call it Saigon as do the residents of Vietnam. We drove past the Tan Son Nhut airport and moved into the city proper. Following a tour of Saigon and visiting the war museum, which featured a U.S. Army Uh-1 helicopter, an F-5 Air force fighter, a Sky hawk, and an army tank - all displaying a large emblem of the communist red star painted over the U.S. insignia.
That was enough tourist attraction for me…
Jan and I walked past the noted Continental Hotel and stopped at the Rex for an afternoon break.
The rooftop view from the outdoor lounge of the Rex Hotel allowed a panoramic glimpse of the city. We ordered a Saigon Sling and a Manhattan which somehow seemed appropriate. As I mellow-out and reflect on the war, I couldn’t help but remember all who had made the supreme sacrifice and had not returned home. As if it was yesterday, I remember my friend Bill McAtee from Hanna. We had been in contact and planned to meet in Lai Khe, my division base camp, in early December. The reunion never happened. Within three days of our meeting, I was wounded in action and Bill was killed. And of course there were many others. I also reflect on my high school and college classmates whose lives would forever be changed by the war. There was Bob Nichols, George Patton, Bill Blom, Steve Hamann, Dick Butler, John DiCiacco, Eric Snoeberger, Mike MacDonald, Bill Bellamy, and the list goes on…
Today, on my birthday atop the Rex Hotel in downtown Saigon, I remember and celebrate their service to our country. Somehow I would like to think we made a difference.
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