Playing with the Boys


Hey, Friends!

It was a busy but productive weekend and it kept me away from the blog.  It was also a weekend with a touch of sadness.

On Saturday, we had a meeting of our VSO motorcycle group, we are a bunch of “wild and crazy” veterans who always have a great time together.  I am, again, the only female veteran but I am well accepted by the veterans in the group and by their spouses. 

We were busy with construction projects all day.  We are working with another group to do some construction for a fellow veteran who could not afford work done to his home.  It was a fun day.  We are always like family…joking, laughing and the sense of “brotherhood” is very strong.  I feel very honored by these men because I am treated like a veteran and not like some sort of freak.  I get to be “one of the boys” again.

Leaving these events always leaves me feeling a little melancholy.  That was how it used to be in the days before Clarence and Jerk.  It used to be so perfect.  It used to be family.  It used to be home.  I used to believe that I could count on my brothers and sisters.  Now I stick closely to a few select males that I know that I can trust.  That I hope that I can trust.  These few have never given me reason to doubt them and I love them more than they will ever know.  They give me a chance to just “play” and have fun and be a human being again.  They let me just be a Veteran…no questions of ‘honor’  and no feelings of shame.

I was talking with one friend and we were talking about a person in leadership in another part of the VSO that we aren’t exactly happy with.  Nothing major, just a general sense of unhappiness.  He mentioned that the person wasn’t even a “combat” veteran.  I said to my friend…”I’m not a combat veteran.”

He responded…”I don’t give a shit…you know the deal!”  Because of our combined association with another veterans group…I know that he knows..or mostly knows…that I am a survivor of MST.  I supposed that what he meant is that we both know how bad PTSD sucks.  He just got ‘lucky’ enough to earn his in combat.  Either way, there is some sort of special connection of friendship between us, and I value it.

Yes, playing with the boys leaves me feeling a little down after we are done.  I supposed that can’t be helped but I will take those feeling of melancholy when they are proceeded by those rare feelings of love and acceptance from “my brothers.” 

It is one of the rare times that I feel no shame – only gratitude and pride at being called a Veteran.

Blessings,

Joan

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