Memorial wreaths. Bouquets. A single flower tucked into an empty bottle of someone's favorite beer. An open card, its message laid bare for all to read. A folded note tucked into the joints of the stone below, its contents known only to the writer.
In a strange parallel to Tim O'Brien's The Things They Carried, these are The Things We Leave for Them.
All along the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall in Washington, DC are the memories of those whose names are inscribed on the towering granite panels. This place is many things: somber, reflective, heartbreaking - but mostly, it is overwhelming.
I sat at my table for a long time trying to write this paragraph that would attempt to capture the range of emotions that this place evokes. I tried and I tried...but I couldn't do it. Nothing was adequate.
So I shall leave it at just this image. Just a simple pair of flowers, small in comparison to the wall it leans against, minuscule in comparison to the sense of loss that one has when staring at all of those names and all of those lives lost forever.
No comments:
Post a Comment