I just finished reading Tammy Duckworth’s extremely engaging and truly inspiring memoir titled Every Day is a Gift. I have to agree with the review of her book that appeared in the New York Times which describes it as “far more gripping, gritty and original than its bromide of a title — Every Day Is a Gift — might suggest.” Don’t be led astray by the title; this is a powerful book and one that is never cliche.
I am an admirer of Senator Duckworth’s political work, but knew very little about her personal life or her extensive military service, other than the fact that she was severely injured in Iraq during a Black Hawk helicopter mission.
Reading her memoir was deeply meaningful to me. Part of this is the fact that my early life was one as an Army brat. Because of my father’s military service, I have always had a place in my heart for those willing to serve our country. My Dad fought in World War II, including being at Pearl Harbor when it was bombed. He, like Senator Duckworth, was always grateful for the opportunity to serve in the military, though his injuries changed the trajectory of his life, too. I cringe at some of the Trumpian false patriotism we have seen in recent years.
I was born at a military hospital in Tokyo, Japan when my father was serving there, along with my mother and my older sister. When we returned to the States, my earliest childhood memories are of wearing my red Dale Evans cowgirl hat as I speedily pedaled my tricycle around Ft. Bragg (I am looking forward to a name change of that base in the near future I hope). My brother was born at Ft. Bragg shortly before my father’s deployment to Korea, at which time we moved to Raleigh, North Carolina.
Even though I have never served in the military, perhaps I was primed from childhood to read and admire this book and the author. To be completely transparent, I was very much opposed to the war in Vietnam when I was a college student and later, to the war in Iraq. I was never opposed to the men and women who served there; but only to the misguided (my opinion) leadership of our government that initiated and continued those wars.
There is one chapter in Every Day is a Gift that will stay with me for a long time. The title of this chapter, Chapter 10, is OWNING THE SUCK. Duckworth writes:
In those first days at Walter Reed, I thought a lot about a phrase I’d learned from fellow soldiers in Iraq: “Own the suck.” When something bad happens, you can either let it own you, or you own it. It sucks to be deployed. It sucks to be sweating in 120-degree heat and have nowhere to pee. And it really sucks to lose your legs. But you know what? That’s your suck. Your loved ones, your friends, your doctors and nurses can never really know what you’re going through—only you do. So own your suck. Kick its ass! Otherwise, it owns you.
It takes a person of real courage and substance to own their suck. How often we moan and groan and complain about how unfair life is, how mean so and so was or is, and how we have had or still have the hardest life on the planet. Duckworth is pretty clear: get over it. Get over it and get on with your life. Or as she says, kick its ass! Own your suck.
She is right. We all have things in our life that suck. I have no suck that can ever compare to having a missile land in my lap in a helicopter and blowing my legs off. I have no suck comparable to thirteen months of intense physical therapy to learn how to walk again or to re-program my battered hand to learn to sign my name or to endure the excruciating pain such as Duckworth went through. She would never want me to use the word suffered because she is very clear that she was not about to take on the role of victim. She is very clear that she wants the role of survivor.
It is not a competition of whose suck is worse than someone else’s suck. We each have our own and we are the only one who can own what we have. As Duckworth writes:
I decided to own—no, to dominate—my suck by taking my recovery one small step at a time. If I couldn’t move my arm, I’d move my hand. If I couldn’t sit up without feeling faint, I would raise my head inch by inch until I could. My situation definitely sucked, but it was what it was. By choosing to own the suck, I was able to come to grips with my situation….
So own your suck and I will work to own mine and please, read this book. And if you feel so moved, send a donation to support Senator Duckworth’s campaign to keep her Senate seat in the 2022 election. We desperately need people of her character, her experience and her forthright honesty serving our country in Congress.
I would like to read this! Definitely owning some suck over the last few years!
Sounds like a great book. I will encourage our tiny library to purchase it.