Speaking with Anjali Enjeti at the r.kv.r.y. blog
Excerpt:
MA: Yes. A friend of mine survived banishment to Siberia during Stalin's brutal regime and he swears that retelling the story for 70 years now has taken out all the sting of it in a very healthy way. (And he's a psychologist, so he ought to know!) One image from your essay really sticks with me is found in the line: "I try to picture American soldiers combing the desert with dog tags hanging around their necks, M16s secured to their chests, and black rosaries stuffed in their pockets." As soon as I read that, I try to picture it, too, and I think it's important that we do. It also links you and your struggles, and your mother and her rosary group to men halfway around the world, fighting for their lives and also fighting to recover from their own traumas. Did you feel that connection, too?
AE: Recovery is a battle, isn’t? A war zone with no boundaries. When we hurt, we are bruised and battered soldiers, trying to find meaning in senseless violence. We are stunned by the assault on our senses. The harder the fight, the more aggressive we have to be to find a way out.
When I held the rosaries for the soldiers my mother made, I felt stronger, more ready, to face the remainder of what I hoped would be a successful pregnancy. But the black rosaries were also a sobering reminder for me that what others faced in the world was far worse than my own individual pain. This perspective was crucial to my recovery.
