Looking Up
"Admiration is a very short-lived passion that immediately decays
upon growing familiar with its object, unless it be still fed
with fresh discoveries, and kept alive by a new perpetual
succession of miracles rising up to its view."
by Joseph Addison [#256 Spectator (24
Dec 1711)]
I stared at his brightly polished shoes
Each as large as my head
My hand resting on his girded leg
Neatly wrapped by a bleached puttee
Like a legging of surgical bandage
Ready to hand to attend his own wounds
I'd watched him bathe and dress
Covering the puckered punctures
And the faded Indian head tattoo
With a special, almost magical cloth
That only warm-blooded statues could wear
Towering far above little boy's dreams
Someone worthy of looking up to
He was my grandfather
Dressed in this antiquated soldier suit
High necked and plain
From his time in uniform, the Great War
The war to end all wars
To once again be displayed on parade
This Armistice Day
And I saw him reflected in the dark mirror of his boots
A shadowed skull beneath a campaign hat
So I turned to look up
Gazing across the vast plane of his massive chest
Probing the solemn eyes
That had seen too much
And saw only more trouble ahead
For every man's son in days to come
But I could no more read that visionary augury
Than the row of strangely colored ribbons
Pinned above his pocket
And though I looked up
At his face, seamed with care
I could no more comprehend his visage
Than the difference in our hands
His blunt, hardened by rough work
And mine, softer than thistledown
My father, then still in pinks and greens
Was heading for occupation duty in Japan
Where I would look up at him
A giant among small stiff men
And see him change with the next war
His second
A bitter and ruthless fight
That made nonsense of sacrifice
He would serve his third with my first, and only
But when looking up
I learned not to search his scarred face
Its signs and portents were best avoided
So I wandered the offices and avenues
Of every assigned post
Looking up, following through
Noticing the differences
From state to state, continent to continent
Checking directions
Studying details
Inspecting uniforms
Discovering the person within the impersonal shell
Finding things that others overlooked or forgot
Smiling eyes behind the scowl
A cork leg in a paratrooper boot
Missing fingers belaying the rappelling rope
A rich contralto singing our anthem
A veteran who's never forgotten the ones left behind
And then, one unremarkable day, I realized
That I was all grown up
And didn't have to look up at anyone anymore
And I felt more important and more capable
Stronger and faster and better
And more powerful
Proud of being the next generation
To don the mantle of American heritage
Proud of seeing farther
For having been lifted up
By my betters
Without noticing them strain
Idols aren't supposed to think or feel
And the view from aloft was truly magnificent
We would count their achievements as part of our own
A birthright
And pretend
As we were looking up, out and away
To build a fantasy bridge from their past to our future
But I wasn't great, like them
And I knew it
But had these surpassing models ever been lost or confused?
Had my champions felt as uncertain and disheartened as I?
And so I found myself seeking
Someone or something
To look up to
And while there were some outstanding specimens
Some witty, some attractive
Some talented, some courageous
None of them stood the test of time
Their preeminence had feet of clay
It was like each had concentrated on single mastery
To the neglect of all else
And I shortly detected
The identical fallacy in my own makeup
Leaving me disillusioned and bereft
It was just one more tantalizing unfairness
Another unattainable expectation
Such a shame to always be reminded of our imperfection
And yet we muddle through
Believing that things will get better
Pretending that things are important
Imagining that things are challenging
Going through the motions
Going through the emotions
Going about our affairs for the meanest of reasons
Step after step along this interminable journey
Collecting our pay
Paying our dues
Paying our bills
Paying our way
Day after day
And always falling short
Looking up and wondering
How have I fallen so low?
The last thing I remember is standing
Looking up from an LZ
Signaling an incoming flight of 'copters
And then looking up
Into the sympathetic eyes of the OR nurse
A wondrous angel in Army green scrubs
The harbinger of an angelic host
Then miles and years later
After enduring a plague of medicos
I'm still looking up
At everyone
From my gurney or wheelchair
Staring at the myriad variety of abdominals
Gazing at the wattles and dewlaps of innumerable jowls
Speculating on the front and rear padding of casuals
Looking up the nasty nostrils of too many people
And getting a little depressed
About this pathetic array of dissimilarities
About this diverse unconformity
About this passing parade
Of the ordinary tramping toward the extraordinary
From nowhere to nowhere
So I share a home with other misfits and wildings
And we all know
There, but for the grace of God, go I
It's our shared testament
In making this commitment
We grant one another the latitude
That no one else will warrant
Allowing us to look up to each other
As brothers-in-trust
It's not about having the will to power
Making a triumphal conquest over adversity
It's about hope
Hope that compassion will reign
It's about faith
Faith that conviction will matter
It's about trust
Trust that sacrifice will influence the final outcome
If not everywhere then
somewhere
And so it goes
By the time you appreciate where you are
You are everything you've ever done
And that is everything you are or will ever be
And none of the unfulfilled potential matters
Neither do the broken promises
To yourself and others
For when you're inevitably sliding over that inexorable edge
All you can do is look up and say
O my God, I am heartily sorry for offending Thee
I regret disappointing You by making a mess of everything
And I ask Your forgiveness for my failings
For even when I tried as hard as I could
It was much too little
And often much too late
With my too many shortcomings
Perhaps disappointing me more than anyone
And though I knew this time would come
Was coming from the beginning
When I had no thought of anything but me
It seems much too sudden
Too quick, too abrupt
Leaving me with things unsaid and things undone
As if a last goodbye would matter
After so much ignorance
And petty preoccupation
Looking up is all I've ever been able to do
It seems so little
And is the very least
But it is in the right direction
Finally
Looking up
All the way!
by Achill Kerne
... who is a combat disabled veteran and freelance writer of
enigmatic works published in obscure literary magazines,
evanescent chapbooks, and other cultural ephemera; his home is a
haven to wildings, host to misfits, and hostel to other societal
detritus.
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