I am overwhelmed with emotion today at the news of the death of Osama bin Laden . . . jubilant, relieved, grief-stricken, saddened or bittersweet, it doesn’t matter. I’m relieved that the mastermind is gone.
Today I planned to blog about DAY FIVE of Karol K. Truman’s book, Feelings Buried Alive Never Die. However, I have chosen to be selfish and change my twist on this subject to focus on me and my emotions. Because of this international breaking news, I felt it was time for me to heal my own wounds.
At the notice of the death of Osama bin Laden in the late hours of last evening, my mind and body went into a meltdown. No, I did not lose anyone in 9/11, but I have a son who was in high school on 9/11 and who is serving in Afghanistan today. He and his fellow soldiers will ultimately experience the consequences of this historic action.
Not only is my son protecting our freedom, but my brother protected our freedom in a Special Forces unit in the late 1950s and mid 1960s. He died for our country in 1965, during peacetime, to a different kind of terrorist – not acknowledged as such in the 60s – and one who never had a name. The emotions that I have stored within me since this tragic event in 1965, swelled to major proportions as my tears and moaning took on a life of their own.
As Karol Truman recommends, for healing to take place, we have to get into the emotion; feel them, know when they surface and stay aware of the feeling. She says we don’t have to retrace our steps and remember the entire scenario when these emotions were given life – just be aware of them and begin to work through her process.
With that advice in hand, I faced my buried emotions and gave them a name. They are called grief and sadness mixed with a little bitterness. These emotions show their ugly face every time I hear of a soldier’s death, pass a flag at half-staff, or listen to the songs – America the Beautiful or the Star-Spangled Banner. This emotion shows up as tears of sadness and regret that my own brother was never found nor properly honored for his service to our country. We never received a body as the body’s were left on that mountainside in Columbia, South America so long ago.
I still grieve for my brother and the hundreds of men and women in the military today that face challenges that we will never know, especially my son. Many of you will never know the feelings of loss when a family member who fought for our country, dies for our country. For that, I am thankful. But for those of us who have faced this loss, today is bittersweet.
As I end this blog, I’m working through Truman’s spiritual practice that will help heal my buried emotions of grief and sadness. Tomorrow I will share with you more information about this profound practice that can heal the unseen wounds that stop us from filling our lives with joy and gladness.
As for my son, I love him and thank him for what he is sacrificing for our freedom. I pray that he and all our soldiers are safe from the ravages of war. Please remember to thank all soldiers, near and far, along the streets, in the malls, at airports, in churches and synagogues, and wherever and whenever they are in your presence. We owe them the respect and gratitude for what they are doing for us. God Bless America and God Bless our soldiers.