Looking for God within the Kingdom of Religious Confusion

Twilight Dreams

Twilight Dreams What dreams linger when the sun hangs low, And shadows lengthen on life's abated road? Some visions fade, like mist at dawn, While others persist, as time swiftly moves on. We've bid farewell to youthful schemes, Of conquering worlds and chasing extremes. Now dreams are painted in softer hues, More memories of all we've loved, lost, and knew. We dream of moments, precious and fleet, Of conversations we'll never complete. Of books unread and songs unsung, And words of love caught on the tongue. There's melancholy in each new day, As friends depart and memories fray. Yet still we find small joys to prize, A grandchild's laugh, a warm sunrise. twilight years, dreams whisper low, Of conformity, and curtailed aggression. Not all our hopes have seen fruition, But some may spark a new tradition. We dream now of leaving tracks in sand, That might, for a moment, help others stand. Of mending fences long left undone, Before the setting of our sun comes ...

Not Alone [Group]

Not Alone [VA Group Therapy - a single step ] —AW Schade USMC 1965/69 Before my fourth group session, my psychiatrist motioned me to his office. He said, “It’s time you reach another stage of healing.” I realized what he meant. In previous sessions I joined discussions but shied away from revealing my history. I sat in silence to absorb what he suggested. Fully aware counseling with him differed from engaging peers and exposing my conflicts with war, manhood, and God. I told him I would try. I rarely discussed Vietnam, lost buddies, or the atrocities we encountered. Nor sought to reconnect with Marines I fought beside. I struggled to block out everything about the war, but nightmares, depression, and guilt ensured I never would. I first imagined group therapy as guys telling ‘Rambo’ stories. Old men, touting what they did, how life might have been, and blaming everyone else for their missteps. I was wrong. In our bunch, all but one veteran saw conflict. Several lived with physical...

A long overdue apology

A long overdue apology To family, friends, and lost brother Marines, I cannot explain why I have chosen to pen this apology on this particular Christmas Day in 2024. Perhaps it's the weight of approaching my 78th birthday, or the growing difficulty in recalling my childhood memories, or finally accepting that I have spent decades viewing my past through a distant, clouded lens. Since returning from Vietnam, my only way of partitioning the dark memories of war was through a desperate struggle to forget them. But I could not simply forget Vietnam, I had to also forget my life before it. The cost of this struggle has become painfully clear. In my relentless effort to suppress the harrowing memories of war, I inadvertently locked away the precious memories of my childhood, my family, my friends, and my brother Marines who fought and died in a jungle thousands of miles from their homes and loved ones over five decades ago. These were brothers who strengthened me through the intimidatio...

PERSPECTIVE - we could both be wrong...AWS

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