Wreath.. Cross...Snow....

Today my eldest son and I went and bought a wreath to put at my Husband's grave.  I bought one made out of flat cedar, a red bow and pine cones.  I took some pieces to burn later.  He now has his name engraved on his stone.  I wished I would have brought my camera to show our Joe.  He stayed home today because the cold weather is bad for his skin.  The rest of the people laid to rest near him fought in World War ll or Korea.  They all died one or two days before he did.  The stone even has Purple Heart below his grade and service information. I think he would like being around those old vets.  It doesn't matter what war they fought in.  He would find commonalities with any who served in a war. I think of him resting around those who really understand what he was going through while alive.  Larry had nightmares every night. Sometimes I would wake up with scratches and bruises on my legs. Thank goodness he wasn't too violent.  He said most nightmares he was frozen stiff and really couldn't move.  Like he was trying to run fast in water.
Larry also had a problem with church.From his boarding school days.  He didn't have a good experience with the Catholic Church.   I don't believe he would like that his stone has a cross on it.  I filled in a form and requested that no engraving about spiritual beliefs be included on his stone. There is only one choice for the Native Americans.  And that is the Tipi and Moon symbol of the Native American Church.  Larry didn't belong to that  religion.  I don't know if I really want to fight about this symbol on his stone right now.  I dont' have the emotional strength to have it changed.  It will just have to wait for when I do.... That was the disappointing part of seeing his stone.  The thing about it is that it matches those around him. 

Comments

[Elaine]

Like Billy Walkabout's Blues
I shipped out to Vietnam. I wanted to serve my nation and protect my people. I found myself in the jungles of Vietnam, ten thousand miles from home. Under monsoon rains, under a painted sky, leeches crawled on my arms. The little blood-suckers fell off into the night. The rain fell all night. Back in the world, no gal danced the southern dance for me.

And the clouds hid the sun. I was burdened with separation from my family and the rez. I couldn’t wear an eaglefeather on my steel-helmet or tear that peace sign away. My war-shirt had blood all over it. I had blood on my hands. I saw people die. I saw medevac helicopters air lift them out. Those guys would remain in my memory. I didn’t have time to grieve then. Firebase on the distant mountain. The jungle was full of mountain ghosts.

Sweet Lady, I never had your love to get me through, Nor did I ever receive any of your letters. You still were so far and so many years away on the great turtle island. I had to go through a year of combat, I came home to a hostile and ungrateful nation. I was treated like a war-criminal. I felt like I didn’t even belong in this land of my ancestors,and all the way through, I was a wounded warrior struggling with PTSD. I tried to get back on track, But I had too many 'nam flashbacks. Not even Ojibwe dreamcatchers could catch all the nightmares.There were years of drug use, alcoholism, homelessness, and racism, Before I found my way to you.

Larry Mitchell

Bury my heart with "Wounded Knee"!
Elaine

[The Local Crank]

We are all fortunate to have known Larry and we are poorer for his passing onto the next world. Our thoughts are prayers are with you and the rest of his family. a-(nv)-da-di-s-di e-di-lv-quo-di-ha. e-me-na.