May 4, 8 pm. The Netherlands. Two minutes of silence. A national commemoration of everyone who died in any war around the world since WW II.
Image courtesy to http://www.refdag.nl
Children, elderly, veterans, peace activists, blacks, whites: we stand side by side at our local war memorial and are silent. Just two minutes. Complete silence. To pay tribute to those who died, to honor being alive.
I always cry.
There is so much suffering in the world.
I think of a dear friend. He was a child during WWII. His father was a member of an organization that helped Jews find hiding places. The Nazi’s found out, invaded their home, searched every room, and finally found the dad. They took him and mistreated him so badly, that he died within a week. A few weeks later my friend’s house was destroyed during a bombardment, and he, his mom, and his siblings were evacuated to a part of the Netherlands, where the people hardly knew of the horrors they had lived through.
So much suffering.
My friend still wakes up from nightmares. I think he will do so the rest of his life.
So much suffering.
I want to help, to heal, to relieve his pain.
I realize that’s not up to me. It’s up to me to respect his autonomy, support his path, and trust his inner resources. My friend doesn’t need my help, he needs me to be me, and show up with love, care, and presence. My friend is doing pretty well, actually. His experiences helped him to be appreciative of all the love, friendship and belonging he receives. It deepened his gratitude for being alive, because he knows how fragile and precious it is.
There is so much suffering. And so much joy for being alive. Thank you, dear friend, for being my role model of celebrating life in each and every moment.
(I changed the details of my friend’s life to protect his privacy).