I was sitting on a park bench the other day when an elderly gentleman came walking by wearing a light jacket that had a VFW (Veterans of Foreign Wars) patch. I stood up, excused myself and said “I see that you served and I wanted to take a moment to thank you for your service.”
The gentleman paused a moment and then asked “Do you know which war I fought in?”
I told him that he looked too young for World War I and a bit too old for Vietnam, so I guessed World War II.
He smiled, stood a little taller and said “Pacific Theatre, US Marine Corp.”
I’m not sure what possessed me to do so, but I pointed toward the bench and said “Can you tell me what was your proudest moment?”
He seemed a bit surprised at first, then his eyes betrayed the fact that he was recalling memories from long ago. Then, as if he had momentarily forgotten my question, looked and me and asked “Are you sure you want to hear an old man’s tales?”
I smiled and said “Not at all. I want to hear about the proudest moment of someone that has experienced and lived through more things than I can possibly imagine.” That too surprised him, then he gave a little laugh and sat down.
I heard about his family, the day he heard about Pearl Harbor, how he argued with his parents to enlist, why he chose the marines, how difficult basic training was and how excited and nervous they all were to ship out. He grew quiet when he recounted fighting at Guadalcanal and stopped to compose himself, before telling me about the “true heroes that didn’t return.”
Then he began to tell me about the woman he met when he returned home, how he married her and four children. Almost as if on cue, a woman came walking toward us and, as he caught sight of her he smiled a big smile and pointed toward her saying “….and she still puts up with me.”
He introduced his wife who had come looking for him when he was late to show up. I hadn’t realized that almost 35 minutes had passed. She “scolded” her husband for “bothering me with stories” and I gently corrected her, letting her know that I hadn’t been bothered at all. In fact, I had been honored. The gentleman thanked me for letting listening and began walking away. His wife turned and said “It sure means a lot to him, just having someone listen.” I smiled my gratitude and she turned to catch up to her husband.
I sat back down, richer for my short time listening to this man and feeling a little embarrassed that I was the one that was thanked over and over. After a moment, I stood and began walking back to my house and marveled at this one small truth: It is easy to extend someone dignity. Every now again, all someone has to do is listen, not talk or share their own perspective and stories. Just sit quietly, looked into their eye and listen.
