Where Did it Go?

Two emails arrived this week that got me reflecting about life, family and friends.

The first one was an announcement that my last surviving cousin had died. He was the end of our generation in my home town of Ely, and, as my cousin, Lois, the writer of the email noted to my brother and me, "I think you two are the last left of that generation". Those were sobering words.

Later I received another email from Mary Jean, a school friend who lives in my home town. She wrote, "Where did life go when we weren't looking?" This friend has a way with words...to the point, and with a poetic quality.

Where did life go? It seems only yesterday that I was young and looking forward to a future, wondering what it would hold in store. I still feel much like that person I was growing up in the north woods, protected from much of the world, running through the woods, talking to strangers, exiting the house early in the day, to return in the evening after a day of adventures. Our parents didn't worry about us in those days, even though we were unconnected by cell phones. We actually communicated face-to-face, looking into each other's eyes, waiting  for a response that included the non-verbal. We felt the world around us, smelled the scents of the forest, swam in the lakes (unsupervised), biked to the next adventure, dug in the earth, made sand castles, salted bloodsuckers, captured night crawlers for fishing, toads and frogs and chipmunks for short-term enclosure in cages, (thanks to the construction talent of my oldest brother), sprinted after the fireflies, picked wild berries, scraped our knees and played outside until well after dark.

During the inclement weather we played board games, listened to the radio shows and read, and read and read some more. We had our secret places such as forts in the woods and a crawl space on the top of the shed above the alley, where we hid from adult intrusion, and perused magazines and comics, wrote journals and secret codes. In the winter we sledded, made snow forts, sucked on icicles, threw snowballs and stayed outside until our woolen mittens and jackets became soggy with the wet snow. Shivering with cold, we reluctantly trudged into the house, suddenly welcomed by the aromas of homemade bread and cups of hot chocolate steaming on the kitchen table.

We had chores and homework, but we were sheltered from the outside world, except through the news reels at the movie theater and, when company came over, our ears plastered to the heat vent in the floor upstairs, listening to the adult conversations in the living room below. Drugs, crime, murder, wars, were only on a distant radar. We felt safe.

The teen years brought us closer to adult realities. There were the social studies classes, newspapers and greater awareness of our outside world. Still we were busy with teen-age stuff...dating, football games, gossip, malts at the downtown popular hang-out, proms, clothes and flitting contemplation of our future plans, often pushed under the covers with our busy-ness of growing up, or, perhaps, our fear of facing that great unknown...unprotected and no longer so safe.

Then we became adults with all the accompanying responsibilities. Over the years we were bombarded by the news of the entire world as our world became invaded by TV, computers, cell phones and we felt compelled to be aware, to vote, to take stands and to enter into life with all that we could offer to make that world a better place.

Where did life go? Am I really one of the last of my generation? I remember when my father moved in with us. He was almost 87 and he enriched our lives until his death at 92. I remember when he said that he did not want to die. There were so many things happening and he wanted to live to see what would happen next. He had always lived life with gusto. He supported a family in a job he detested, "underground, damp and sunless," he spent his free time in the woods he loved, and he read every newspaper and magazine within his reach, an influence on me I am sure. He gave to others, constantly helping out his neighbors, his community, his church. He led a full life, even during his last years when he moved in with us after my mother's and sister's deaths. He brought our neighborhood together, something that I had been too busy to do with work and all. He kept our fires burning during the winter, cutting the wood, piling it by the fireplace, and keeping a toasty fire 24 hours a day. After a few years he could only tend it during the day hours, and during his last year of life the wood lay uncut and the fire burned no more.

He lived life but at the end he, too, wondered, "Where did it go?" It passed too quickly and he was not ready to let it go.

He was a model and I hope to live life as he did...to the fullest and to the very end, and wonder, as does my school friend, "Where did it go?"

They Never End

As long as their are people on this earth there will be conflicts. In Reveille in Hot Spring one of the veterans states that "there will always be wars" and I really believe that. Be it greed, power or  misunderstanding...disagreements, conflicts and even wars will continue to haunt us.

Our community has been involved in many issues, the longest lasting this far being the fight to save our VA in Hot Springs. We stand together against those in power who continue to erode veteran benefits. We were split on the issue of "to buy, or not to buy", when it came to the decision for the city council to purchase the Evan's Plunge, the worlds largest natural indoor, heated swimming pool.

The entire Black Hills is caught up in a struggle to battle foreign companies (and many local politicians who support them) who want to obtain permits for mining uranium by in situ mining, a process not un-like fracking, that has a long track record of contamination of aquifers in many countries, followed by an absence of thorough clean-up by those same companies, which prefer to pollute in countries other than their own.

The latest struggle will be our battle to save our American Legion in Hot Springs. Once again, it is those in authority who want to close us up in order to get at the leader of this legion who has been leading the charge to save our VA and irritating, to say the least, those who have the power to take away benefits from veterans. Those in charge have been doing it gradually and rather quietly for over 15 years and we citizens of Hot Springs, together with our veterans, are saying "No, it must stop here and now."

At a recent meeting in Rapid City, several of the leaders of their city council congratulated us, the people, for fighting for a cause. They said it has been the grass roots groups who have changed our country - from civil rights, the war in Vietnam, voting rights, etc. They asked us to continue to fight. It is, after all, a country "of the people, by the people and for the people" not of, by and for the corporations. At times it is difficult to believe that. They do have the money and greed is a huge influence on outcomes. But it did boost morale to hear kudos from elected officials for us who are fighting yet another battle.

There will always be battles and I hope many will continue to take up the fights, in whatever manner they can, rather than sit back and complain and criticize those who do. In looking back over my years I believe that it is in the battle that I will stay forever young and growing. There is nothing more that I can ask out of life, and life has indeed been good to me.

Some Stories Break My Heart

My favorite meditative spot is one of the benches along the river walk in down-town Hot Springs. It is at that bench that I can hear the water cascading over the rocks, and while I sit there the rest of the world and all of the problems fade away. It is my healing place.

Today a gentleman was sitting on the bench, cane by his side and a book in his lap. Usually if that bench is occupied I continue on my way, but today I joined him on the bench. I have heard his story repeated over and over during the past months.

He is a veteran who is worried about the possible closure of our VA. He does not drive and this VA provides his medical care in a town that he can navigate with a little help from his cane. He walks the river, walks to his VA appointments and can stop into any of the stores that will supply his needs.

"I don't know what I will do if they close this VA. They have already shut down many of the services and the drive to Fort Meade hospital is an all-day drive that gets harder on me as I get older. I guess I will have to find another small town like this one because I will not be able to afford private insurance".

After my months of researching for my book about our efforts to save our VA in this small community and listening to similar stories, I did not have the heart to tell him that the VA administration in Washington is slowly, but surely, closing rural VA hospitals all over this country, while gradually whittling down the benefits that veterans earned during their time of service.

"It is so hard to believe that they are cutting us. The representatives in Washington keep getting their raises and superior health care. My medicare premiums cut into my social security, my savings are being eaten up and those guys in Washington want to make cuts to Medicare, social security and food stamps.I am right on the edge for getting any benefits. I wonder if anyone will enlist when they learn that benefits are being cut?"

I, too, wonder. After our talk I walked back home, came into the house and cried. I cried for all of our veterans, present and future. I cried for the veteran on that bench who had served proudly and who only wants the health care once provided and promised. I cried for the future of our country.

Spreading the Word

Fatigue has set in. I said to my husband the other day, "I have never been so tired in my life". After a year of taking and writing interviews, two months of intensive editing and three months in publication, I have hit in exhaustion interlude. People used to refer to me as the Energizer Bunny, but, at this time it seems as if my get-up-and-go has gone-and-went.

Everything I have been involved in has been enjoyable, but I guess the emotional intensity has reached my limit for now. The problem with this recess is that this is the time I should be in promotion of Reveille in Hot Springs. What began as my contribution to our community and our VA has evolved into a passion for the rights due to our veterans. It is not just for our veterans who use our VA, but for all of our American veterans who served our country, be it peacetime or in combat, and who deserve the benefits our government once promised. They are heading for privatization of benefits and consolidation of health care in the major cities.

The veterans who need emotional health care for PTSD and substance abuse want to recover in the peace and quiet of rural VA facilities. The larger hosptials located in the metro areas have too many triggers that can reverse their recovery, and because of their size, veterans are treated as numbers and patients, not as veterans.

In the private hospitals doctors are not trained to recognize PTSD, agent orange related diseases and the special needs that veterans require for their healing. Also, it has been proven that the most cost-effective way to treat our veterans is through VA centers. It will cost the taxpayers more to have veterans seek treatment in private hospitals.

It makes sense to keep and improve our VA hospitals. It makes sense to give all veterans, combat related or not, their full benefits, much as our representatives in Washington receive after their years of service to our country. I wonder if we will have future soldiers to enter the military when young men and women begin to realize that if they serve and do not get VA benefits for non-combat-related injuries or illnesses, that they will need to obtain insurance which is often beyond their means.

Then there are the homeless veterans, drifting the country, perhaps getting welfare, who are lost in the muddle of the indigent who have never served. Does adding to this cost, rather than treatment and retraining for society make sense?

Oh, yes, I could go on and on, but again, my frustration and anger at this muddled system only adds to my exhaustion. I need to recoup and regroup for the battle ahead.

This morning I got a phone call from someone who brought a "bunch of books" at the bookstore and is bringing them over for me to personalize. She said she is spreading them around the country during her travels. She wants the word out there. So do I. So do I. Thank you to everyone who purchases books, gives them out to others or sends them on for reviews. You help the cause. You help our veterans, and you help out this temporarily un-wound bunny.

If you help spread the word, thank you from all of our veterans. Thank you from me.

Feedback on Reville in Hot Springs

An email concluded with "thanks for doing what you do". It got me to thinking about what I do. It certainly isn't for monetary gain. I was only hoping to break even on this project about our veterans and community attempt to save our rural VA in Hot Springs, SD.

One of the emails that came from those who have read my book calls the stories "poignant". Another feedback used the word "compelling" testimonies from the veterans. Feedback such as these keep me in the battle to help our veterans.

The response from those who bravely shared their stories for the world to read have only reinforced my goals and desire to promote and spread this book - a work by the community and the veterans - for the community and the veterans.

While I was selling books at the traveling wall a veteran, who has his story in my book, told his wife that she was not going to keep his copy of the book. He told her he wanted to be buried with it.

On Saturday the woman who travels with the Quilt of Tears sent word to me to stop at her booth. When I arrived she said, "I just had to have a copy of your book. Some veterans in the book have told me how proud they are to have their stories written for all to see and understand".

Another veteran in the book, who travels over three hours to keep his appointments at this VA in Hot Springs, thanked me several times for writing this book and including him in the cause. He and his wife stopped at the house yesterday on their way home from the VA. After more thanks,  his wife, clutching the book to her heart, said, "This book will remain for our children long after we are gone".

In response to that email I received from a fellow writer sending thanks for doing what I do, my reply to her and to myself is my reward is from all of those who have taken this project to their hearts. That is why I do what I do. Thanks for your thanks.