This is an open letter to the army vet I sat with at the bookstore tonight:
Dear guy who reads Nora Roberts books, likes jumping out of planes and can converse as articulately as anyone I've ever met about anything,
I didn't plan on asking you a million questions when I sat down across from you tonight. I planned on grading papers and just making a glib comment on the cat obsessed table beside us, and then, after talking about pitbulls, I noticed how you were reading your book. Resting the binding against the lip of the table so no one could see the title... I luckily didn't have to tell you what book was in my bag :). And anyone who knows me can tell you that I always ask millions of questions, but don't ever do anything like this.
We're a year apart in age, but worlds apart in experience, opinions and all values but the most intrinsic ones. You enlisted fresh out of high school and I've spent over 25 years in classrooms. We both believe that people should be accountable for their own behavior; students shouldn't have college shoved down their throats- trade needs to make a comeback; that mental health needs some serious help; that this country can and should be the glorious place (not perfect, glorious) that we know it can be; and that most people will never realize how good they have it to be born and live in this country.
There's a practicality and a worldliness about you that I found absolutely refreshing.
Back to our friend, Nora Roberts: the story of how your mom and injuries had gotten you into her made me smile and cringe at the same time as we got into the experiences you've had all over this world, both in war and peace.
I won't go into any detail about your stories, because they're yours, not mine to tell. I just want to say three things:
1. Thank you for answering all of my questions. I didn't mean to be indelicate, but I don't have the fortune of running into someone from whom I can learn so much everyday. Thank you for sharing your stories and insight. Your way of engaging me in the history, economics and human behavior discussions was remarkable. And most importantly, thank you for serving our country. I can't fathom sacrificing all you have, but I thank you and your brothers who are no longer with us.
2, I hope that you know how I feel to have pseudo-met you. I feel blessed. In an area where nearly all conversations revolve around bar antics, job complaints, restaurant reviews and menial crap, a real conversation about life, jumping from planes, loss, travel and the rest of the important stuff was incredible. You completely shifted my preconceptions of a soldier and what I take for granted.
3, I hope you realize that you're blessed too. Not because of the hand fate has dealt you, or because you had me hanging onto your every word this evening. You have a family that obviously thinks the absolute world of you. You have enough where you can give and help out and you do. You can find the beauty and freedom of the outside world this frigid season. And because your dogs sound awesome. Do me one kindness: Enjoy it.
Get that camera. I think your snowy landscapes will be gorgeous. I expect to see them and hear some more diving stories and a synopsis of Nora's latest work when we meet again.
Best wishes,
Marty
