Teary Old Men - they learned something that you should, too.

Have you ever been in the presence of a World War II veteran whose eyes filled up when they spoke to you? I love teary old men, not just for what they endured but even more for what they know. More people should get to know their model for mental wellness, and even masculinity, that has lasted their entire lifetimes.

As a stroke of good fortune, I had the pleasure to sit near this WWII veteran during a high school basketball game, and we both shared a veteran handshake of respect with the typical understated introduction (which is common when most veterans meet). There is never anything “macho” about it.  During the course of the game, the older man kept looking at me and I noticed his eyes were filled with tears and he was crying, but smiling at the same time. I asked him if he was OK and he responded, “yes, of course I am…I’m grateful.” 

Similar experiences with teary old men, those brilliant veterans of WWII, have occurred to me more times than I can count, and as I reflect upon the common origin of their tears it is clear to me their emotion is not about mortality or sorrow, or defeat.

But rather their eyes tear in utterly untouchable, unflappable, and unwavering gratitude.  

They are present and they want you to see they are present, too.  No shame, no game, just a grateful man – a gentleman - who seems to know something you don’t.  What do they know that we should know, too?

Henry David Thoreau once wrote, “the mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.” But how do you go on to live a happy life when desperation and death were shoved down your throat on the beaches of hell in 1944 and then again for another several years of war, where both triumph and disaster taunted you like Kipling’s imposters?  How do you “come back” as a whole man at all?  

Old men who served in wars all seem to carry this gift, this disarming essence of masculinity, with this unspoken life lesson staring you right in the face: gratitude is the essence of longevity…and sanity.  

Quite amazingly WWII veterans did not seek an escape in drugs, or despair or depression, but rather most have lived an upright life carrying out the fullest missions as fathers, grandfathers and exemplar citizens, forever tied to those unique values of the American experience.

And with all the reasons to cry for themselves having been in the great war, they shed tears of utter joy and gratitude for the gift of being alive in the presence of loved ones and freedom.  If you have ever witnessed it, you know what I mean.

Teary old men of today returned home after WWII with grit and resilience, and collectively they chose to be whole men to their country, their family and their communities.  

In the words of our British allies, “they carried on” and helped lead our Congress and our country to decades of decency, decorum and prosperity. 

One other common attribute of teary old men is they rarely speak about their war experiences, and the horror or the tragedy they witnessed. This WWII gentleman in the bleachers was no different.  

He sat in my presence in utter delight and dignity, frail but not fragile.

My experiences were scant compared to his.  I had served in Iraq with the 82nd Airborne and not even my family knew I was ironically fearful of heights, nor that a fellow lieutenant and friend came by our base camp with tiny pieces of a human arm still splattered on this uniform.  What I saw, felt, smelled and feared in Iraq changed me...and made me a different man than I was before.

Like most veterans I try to bury the un-pleasantries of conflict, but when I grasp the magnitude of hell that WWII veterans experienced, especially those of D-Day, it is even more amazing how humble and mindful and thankful they are…to the very end of their days. So, we should take full stock of the departing but timeless lessons of the WWII veterans that still remain.  

They are miracles to the mindless, they are the mindful giants of the last century – and the examples of masculinity for this century - who have lived in a state of gratitude, gentleness and humility since they came home, and they never looked back.

Teary old men of D-Day and WWII are real men, resilient men, both for how they fought and how they came home and carried on.  

I love these men, not just for what they endured but even more for what they know.

They remind us all - at all ages, men and women - to own our own outcomes, foster our own resilience and unlock that magic secret of gratitude, of being present with love and life, to be lucky enough to pursue a sane and substantial life well-lived.