July 4, 2013 - Part I, In My Aunt's Memory

This is in memory of my Aunt Margie, whose 90th birthday would have been today, July 17th.  I thought of her while writing about the children in the following posts.  She loved children.  At one point in life she worked with troubled children through Primary Project.  I remember so distinctly discussing it with her while on a road trip to the funeral of an uncle.  She was interested in and passionate about the children.  She was excellent with children, so that was no surprise to me.  

When our Natalia died, she left us two voice messages.  I asked Allan to record them.  I have two copies, one actually in our safe.  Know why?  Because I thought that if I ever need encouragement about the ability of human beings to be loving and compassionate, I have only to listen to her voice.  I looked up the exact definition of the word 'compassion'.  It was defined as "the deep awareness of the suffering of another, coupled with the wish to relieve it.  

I also looked up 'empathy'.  I was somewhat dumbfounded at what I learned.  I thought I knew what empathy is.  I did not.  It's definition is more narrow and less indicative of feeling than I thought.  Here's what I found empathy to mean:  the intellectual identification of the thoughts, state, or feelings of another; capacity to understand another's point of view or the result of such understanding". 

Two very, very different approaches to the condition or situation of another human being, right?  I always thought empathy was a good thing.  I no longer care about being empathetic.  I do not want to respond to others from an intellectual, emotionally detached  perspective.  I want to be compassionate, like Margie.  I do not want a superficial connection.  I want to care intensely, so much so that I want their hurting to stop; so much so that I am willing to do whatever I can, regardless of how small and insignificant it might seem. 

A message on an answering machine could be thought of as a kind, a 'sweet' thing to do.  But such a simple, everyday gesture can be far more than kind.  It can make a difference; it can help someone.  It didn't take our suffering away; no one could do that.  However, there is something about knowing someone would do so, if only s/he had the ability.  There is real comfort in that.  I truly can't think of anyone who understands that better than my aunt did.  I think of her often, and I can only hope that when I am gone someone will say I lived that same way, exemplifying the full meaning of the word "compassionate". 

Note:  the photos on this post came from this site:

http://blogs.denverpost.com/captured/2011/12/30/captured-nine-years-of-war-in-iraq/5165/

Wow! I didn’t realize it had been almost months since I last wrote something to share.  I knew it had been a long time, but wow!  Lots going on, for sure.   But might as well jump in and put fingers to typing.  I’m on the back screened in porch with a slight breeze, not too much heat or heaviness to the air yet.  And I have my morning coffee…might as well tackle the “freedom and liberty” thing…

I know there are very different and even opposite viewpoints on what these terms really mean.  And some people seem almost hostile (and for some there is no "almost") about just how broad the definitions should be.  I searched several different dictionaries and a thesaurus because I wanted to know if the denotative meanings matched some of the narrow interpretations I hear.  I didn’t find any whatsoever.  If I understand what I am reading “freedom’ is a more general term, referring to the ability to think, act, and speak without the external imposition or restraint.  I guess “liberty” emphasizes more the free will of self-determination.  Interesting, but I’m not sure I see much difference, unless I consider the restrictions of personal liberty when necessary for universal safety and benefit, for example.  I can’t go into a movie theater and yell “Fire!”   I can’t drive over a certain speed limit within a school zone.  (Both, rightly so, as I see it.)    

(As a quick aside, there is a beautiful red bird on the branch of the tree closest to the porch.     Usually    any activity close by and the red birds retreat.  But this one is actually facing me and singing.  It is almost as if it wants my attention.  What a nice way to start a day!) 

Let me consider some of the opinions or reactions I’ve heard that illustrate differing connotations of these terms. 

“People who want to live in our country should assimilate.  If they don’t want to adapt to our ways, they should go back to where they came from.”   (Let me make it very clear that I’ve heard this stance about people who are here legally; even about some who have become citizens.)  I have absolutely no idea how this opinion matches up with the definitions of freedom and liberty.  In fact, to me it implies the exact opposite; it implies that freedom and liberty apply if one acts, looks, speaks, and thinks in the same manner as I do.  So how this fits in with lack of outside constraints, I do not understand.  So, I’m lost here. 

“They come here and don’t try to live according to our rules.”  Although this attitude is really the same as the previous, I include it because it doesn’t imply anything.  It states, without equivocation, that freedom and liberty DO impose restrictions on personal choice; and that those restrictions mean “how we live”.  Shame on me, I’ve always wanted to ask what rules are being referenced, and where can I read and study them.  But, I really do hate sarcasm, so I always refrain.  I just quietly wonder if the person speaking has given any real thought to that statement. But while I’m pondering that question, the person is rushing on to say how precious our liberty is to us.  If it is someone I know or strongly suspect would not be one to engage in real discussion, I let it go and change the subject.  If I have any indication that s/he might be one willing to converse so that we might each learn something, or at least get a new perspective to think over, I respond.  I always begin by saying that I very, very respectfully, but also very strongly disagree.  Then I ask for permission to explain why I do.  Most of the time I get a look of true shock and a mumbled, “yeah, okay”.  I get varied feedback, of course. 

“It’s not wrong to want to be with people like yourself.”  This opinion might be backed up with the declaration that something is lost, such as traditions, ethnicity, etc.  “No, it isn’t wrong”, I reply when I hear this statement.  And then, I have to make that same decision about whether or not it is worth further discussion.  When I decide it is, I just make it clear that, for me, it is enriching to include in my circle people who are NOT just like me.

When I hear this I inevitably think of Bob Ross.  I’ve watched Bob Ross’ PBS television show “The Joy of Painting” a number of times.  ALWAYS Bob gets to a point where I think the painting is really, really good; he should stop.  But I know he won’t because there is time left before the show ends.  So Bob picks up a different brush, or talks about adding another color.  As Bob is doing so I am ALWAYS telling Bob, “No.  No.  It’s really good.  You don’t need anything else.  Leave it as it is!”  Bob does not listen.  He goes right on and might add quite a bit more to the painting.  As he does so, I am ALWAYS responding with “Oh! Yeah!”  (Bob does not seem to need my encouragement, but I am ALWAYS generous with it, appreciated or not.)   To point out the ridiculously obvious, Bob’s finished painting is ALWAYS far better for not having listened to my instruction via the television screen.  The painting has more character, more depth, better composition, more life, more appeal to it. 

That’s how I see my life.  When I make friends who are not like me, who think differently than I, my life is improved and made much better, in the same way Bob’s painting was made better.  Something good is made more, is enhanced, by the addition of more color, more variety.  And Bob didn’t add to only one area of the painting.  He worked around the painting, adding improvement in different areas.  I like that idea for life also; the idea that I don’t want to develop one area of my life, to the exclusion of other areas.  I’d just as soon the different areas of life receive attention and additional work so the composition of the whole is that much better.  And that’s what happens when I look for and try to accept and enjoy those who are so unlike me.  Maybe that’s true because underneath we value the same thing, the right to be who we are and to live life as we want and/or think is best for us. 

A couple more thoughts with respect to the denotative meanings of freedom and liberty.  The definitions I found for freedom included: 1) exemption from external control, interference, etc.,      2) political or national independence,  3) absence of subjection to foreign domination or despotic government.  Know what I thought of?  Iraq.  And irony.  How sad that they go together.  The very nation, our country, that so highly values freedom and liberty, subjected another country to exactly what we absolutely would not stand for, interference from and/or imposition of another country’s determination about what is best for us.  I can’t think of Iraq without thinking of the photograph of an Iraqi mother holding the wrapped body of her 4 year old daughter who was killed two weeks before the war technically ended.  All I can think of is that this woman, along with all the others, and all the other children had no say whatsoever in the decision about going to war.  But because of the decisions of a few people, mostly men, their lives are forever changed.  And if you've lost your child, it is always for the worse.  Always.  Then there is the following picture.

This little 5 year old girl’s parents were killed when the family, in their car, was out and innocently and unknowingly approached the troops during dusk patrol in the city of Tal Afar in January 2005.  Her mother and father died instantly.  Her brother, 11, received a serious wound to the abdomen.  He was paralyzed from the waist down. 

I have to ask myself what this little girl, should she be writing someday, would say about freedom and liberty; and about the country that espouses these principles, so much so that it sees itself as the champion of them.  I also ask myself what the soldiers, most of whom were not much beyond childhood themselves, felt and will feel about the unintentional murders.  My heart goes out to them for having been placed in such a position.  They undoubtedly will never be free of some awful mental images. 

Here are a few more images of what it looked like to bring democracy and freedom to Iraq; images of both the recipients of that freedom and the young men and women who had the job of following orders and delivering that "freedom". 

In his 2003 speech from the USS Abraham Lincoln (no less), when announcing the end of major combat operations in Iraq, President George Bush said, "Those we lost were last seen on duty. Their final act on this earth was to fight a great evil, and bring liberty to others. All of you — all in this generation of our military — have taken up the highest calling of history. You are defending your country, and protecting the innocent from harm. And wherever you go, you carry a message of hope — a message that is ancient, and ever new. In the words of the prophet Isaiah: 'To the captives, 'Come out!' and to those in darkness, Be free!'"  (Emphasis mine.) When I see the faces of the American and Iraqi children, I do wish his words rang true to me.  

The nurse is taking the pulse of a dying soldier.

At another point in his USS Abraham Lincoln speech, President Bush said, "Everywhere that freedom arrives, humanity rejoices.  And everywhere that freedom stirs, let tyrants fear."  To me, this child looks fearful of those arriving with freedom. When her generation is grown to adulthood, what will they think of freedom, I wonder? 

This is an injured Iraqi child being comforted by a neighbor.

Old women waiting in a food line.  They must need the comfort of holding on to one another.

An Iraqi woman hangs onto a truck while waiting for the distribution of food by Iraqi soldiers.  In President Bush's speech referenced above, he said also,  "Men and women in every culture need liberty like they need food, and water, and air."  This picture seems to show a very elderly woman who must be very hungry.  I cannot speak for her, but when I am hungry, I don't care about any ideology.  And I certainly would not care if this were my mother waiting for food.   

Evidently being the recipient of freedom means having soldiers from another country in your kitchen while you wash dishes and the children of the family look on.  I wonder what these very young soldiers think, looking back.

More of President Bush's speech from the USS Abraham Lincoln:

"In the images of fallen statues, we have witnessed the arrival of a new era. For a hundred years of war, culminating in the nuclear age, military technology was designed and deployed to inflict casualties on an ever-growing scale. In defeating Nazi Germany and imperial Japan, Allied Forces destroyed entire cities, while enemy leaders who started the conflict were safe until the final days. Military power was used to end a regime by breaking a nation. Today, we have the greater power to free a nation by breaking a dangerous and aggressive regime. With new tactics and precision weapons, we can achieve military objectives without directing violence against civilians. No device of man can remove the tragedy from war. Yet it is a great advance when the guilty have far more to fear from war than the innocent.  (Emphasis mine.)

He ended his speech with, "Thank you for serving our country and our cause. May God bless you all, and may God continue to bless America."  (Once again, emphasis mine.)

 If God has blessed my country more than any other, as so many believe, why would He do so at the expense of this little girl, and all the other children, American and Iraqi alike, whose sweet, bewildered faces are now saved in the camera of my heart?  And sadly for me, that camera is not digital; the images cannot simply be erased.