Revenge or Justice

I’m not supposed to know something.  I was told about a situation, and it hasn’t been made public yet.  I’m getting used to this.  There’s a lot of knowing things I probably shouldn’t going around.  I guess it’s part of Army life.  My husband needs someone to talk to, so he talks to me.  Even when I hear things I shouldn’t hear, I button them up and keep them secret.  I’m not supposed to know, but I pretend I don’t.

In this case, I’m doing something about it.  My candle is lit up with so many candles and incense it’s almost as though on fire, an ironic statement considering some of the recent events.  Down the center like I’ve got red wine and my obsidian orb.  Behind them is a red candle.  I have the colors of darkness, of blood, of anger, of revenge.

One would think I seek revenge for what has happened, but revenge is such a silly thing.  In truth, I seek justice.  I seek for the person who committed a crime to suffer the reprecussions of their actions.  I wish for them to know the pain they have caused another.  I wish they know of the lives they’ve touched, the pain they have caused, how many truly suffer because of one action.  I wish for vengeance, yes, but mostly I wish that they bear the suffering they caused.  I wish that they know the pain all to intimately.  I wish they are brought to justice through whatever means the universe deems appropriate.  Does that mean pain and suffering?  Not necessarily.  I just wish they have to suffer the consequences of their actions, as everyone should, and I hope to speed it along.

I can’t explain what has happened.  I can only say that my family has been effected by it, even though we’re not involved directly.  Everyone whose lives are touched by it will suffer.  It’s not easy to put things like this behind you, and it’s harder still to close the door when the wound is constantly being pried open by daily life.  As a result, our house holds someone very wounded by the incident, and I don’t know how to make him better.

Being uninvolved directly is easy for me.  I just go back to crocheting a blanket or knitting for Gina.  I take care of the kids.  I try to keep them from bothering Caelan much.  I try to do what I can to make sure the household keeps plodding along, even if it’s just in the regular footfalls of every day life.  I try to keep things going, but sometimes I fear I fail.  It’s my job to keep it together.  That’s my life now.  I have to be the family rock.  I have to hold us together.

Because of all this, I’ve decided to change my costume for the show.  I’m going to be wearing a pair of Caelan’s ACU pants.  I’m going to make a tassel belt out of some ACU material for his torn uniforms.  I’ve got to find a bra form so I can cover that with ACU material as well.  I’m going to wear my green tie top and black skirt.  The tassels are going to be yellow.  I’ll tie my hair up in a half ponytail with a yellow ribbon.  My unit pendant will be hanging from a black cord at my throat.  When I stop at the PX  I’m going to see if I can find some of those yellow rubber bracelets that say "Support Our Troops" or something like that.  I may make some black arm warmers, or out of ACU or olive drab.  I’m not sure.  However, I know this costume needs to happen.  I’ve been considering some kind of supportive costume for a while now.  I’ve been wondering how to make some part of my dance be a tribute to the troops.  In this case, I think I need to more than ever, especially in a war where hate crimes and the like happen against soldiers, against good men and women who are simply doing their job.  No, people may not spit on soldiers anymore, but they harass their families when they’re simply trying to go about their daily business, all because they happen to have a yellow ribbon or a unit crest on their car.  This is a world where people protest at funerals because they believe that soldiers fighting for the freedom of this country means they’re supportive over gay rights.  This is a world where soldiers are killed because of the people they represent, and not always in a war zone.  I don’t care what they’re fighting for, nor who tells them they must fight, no one deserves to die for doing their job.  No one deserves to be harassed because of the person they love.  No one should have their day of memorial ruined by people who are trying to push forth an agenda and get news time.  Death, no matter what the reason, is not something to be celebrated, reveled in, or enjoyed.  Death is not something to profit off of, nor use for an agenda.

Yes, maybe I’m giving away too much.  Even so, I feel that now I need to do this, much more than I ever have before.  I need to feel I’m playing my part in all of this.  I need to feel that I’m showing that no matter how much I hate this war, I’m supportive of the people that have to live in those conditions, who have to fight for causes they don’t believe in, who have to die for them.  There needs to be some kind of message here.  There needs to be something.  I just don’t know what else to do.

I look at my altar, built for revenge, or justice…  I much prefer justice.  I think of the costume I’m going to make for October.  I think of the man I love, sitting across the room from me and how he’s in so much pain that he wants to be alone.  He needs to write.  He needs to escape from the pain he’s feeling.  I think of the tears he’s shed.  I think of the pained look on his face, of his barely audible voice.  I think of the sadness I see in him.  I think about the way he’s singing in a faint voice along to Zombie by the Cranberries, and of the new change to "I Am Stretched On Your Grave" as sung by Kate Rusby.  I think of the way I can’t take away his pain, though I would if I could.

It’s funny how life works.  Sometimes something drastic happens like this.  I think things may get better.  I think that things will be better.  He’s willing to do what it takes to make this work now.  I’m not going to just assume he’ll do it.  If he falters, I’ll still do what I must.  However, until that point, I’ll be the strength he needs so he can do what he needs to do.

I hate that it had to happen this way.  I hate that he should be hurting so much.  I hate that this event needs to touch so many people.  I hate that any of this had to happen.  It’s that hatred that drives me.  It’s that which had me light my altars.  I want whoever caused this pain in so many lives to come to justice.  I want them to deal with the consequences of their actions, no matter what that may be.

~*~Rave~*~