Respect

Well it turns out that it's Veteran's Day. I guess being a veteran doesn't mean that you automatically get a memo reminding you of that. Fortunately, I have a grandmother. This afternoon she asked me if I would please take her to the cemetery like it would be some kind of favor to her. I tried to explain to her that there was absolutely nothing in the world I would rather do than honor the memory of the best man I ever knew on the most appropriate day of the year to do so, but she still seemed to think that I was somehow inconvenienced. Of course, the trip still meant much more to her than I.
Grandma had gotten some small American flags from somewhere beforehand, and we picked up two bunches of red carnations on the way. The drive to South Dallas took about an hour and a half so there was a good deal of quality time with Grandma thrown into the deal for free! After some minor navigational difficulties, we arrived at the Dallas/Fort Worth National Cemetery. Grandma expressed a desire to drive around and see the grounds. The cemetery is centered around a pond encircled with plaques honoring various services and units who had distinguished themselves in the wars. We had arrived just as the ceremony overlooking the lake was ending which was a shame because it looked like quite a production complete with a stage for distinguished speakers, a Marine color guard in full dress regalia, and some massive Army artillery guns for firing salutes. We did a full circle around the grounds enjoying the weather which was uncharacteristically warm and sunny for this time of year. Grandma was already beside herself with joy and pride and we hadn't even gotten to Grandpa's grave yet. The walk from where we parked to Grandpa was pretty long for an 85 year old woman, and the grass was spongy and treacherous after the previous night's storm, so Grandma was winded and exhausted when we finally found the marker for William Benac. She sent me to fetch some of the vases provided by the facility as she leaned forward almost doubled over on the marker stone. She was still in this position when I returned and for a long while afterward. I patiently waited at a respectful distance as I tried to imagine the love, longing, joy, grief, and hope that filled her during those minutes. I realized that I will be a very lucky man indeed if the day ever comes that I have as much to lose as she already had.
To me, William Benac has always embodied the "Greatest Generation." He was a true patriarch and to a young boy or teenager, he seemed more than a man. He had a quiet patience and confidence which I found daunting at times, but was also one of the most tender and caring men I have ever known. He had accomplished great things with his life and took pride in them. Grandma always tells me how proud of me he must be watching from the other side, but when he died, I was a perfect loser. I will always live with the knowledge that I was a disapointment to my hero on his deathbed. The least I could do was to pay my respects for the sacrifices and hardships that he and his peers made so that my generation could have the opportunity to live and to make the poor choices that we have. I guess that my own abuse of my legacy mirrors that of my generation's abuse of our nation. But as always in life there is hope and I am beginning to learn that hope can go a long way.