What We Carry

 

bandolier - noun - shoulder belt with loops or pockets for cartridges (Google)

Immediately after finishing reading Vladimir Nabokov's Pnin, I transitioned into Tim O'Brien's contemporary novel realistically depicting the Vietnam War entitled, The Things They Carried. In it, the focus is on a small group of soldiers and whatever has accompanied them into war. One of the obvious corporeal belongings includes ammunition in bandoliers and one of the spiritual? Love. So far (I am on page 60), the concept of what can be toted along no matter where one travels is a motif in the fictive story that could easily be autobiographical. Unlike Nabokov's, O'Brien's voice is simple, yet the syntax flows readily like water in jungle streams that the soldiers traverse in Nam. Last night while reading the book, I couldn't help but ponder what I might hide in my bandolier if I were one of the characters. Maybe nothing original. Maybe exactly what the protagonist First Lieutenant Jimmy Cross carries: a letter from a woman who occupies his heart and photos of her. I don't know about the letter, but I would definitely carry pictures of those near and dear to me. 

What we take along with us in life says a lot about who we are. I tend to stuff quite a few useful things in my purse that most women would never think about including in theirs. The last time I was at a bridal shower, I won the pocketbook scavenger hunt because I was able to unearth passe contents, such as a pocket address book and mini pad and pencil, from my bottomless pit of a handbag. No one else had anything close. Since when did these things go out of style? Anyway, those two items alone speak at least two paragraphs about who I am as a person.

Yet perhaps it is what we carry inside of us that is more significant, the contents of our hearts, our souls. Fictive Jimmy Cross has undying affection for a woman who doesn't return his feelings, and that is okay. It doesn't matter. What does matter to him is that his unrequited devotion helps to keep him alive through the thick and thin of his tour of duty. Maybe it is not important whether or not we receive love. Maybe it is important that we give it without expecting anything in return.

If we carry love in our metaphorical bandoliers, we won't need any other ammunition or anything else. It alone shall sustain us.

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