A Special Day

To most of us (myself included), it was always the first holiday of the summer.  Not much value except to be out of school or off work.

A day of picnics, entertainment, barbecue, and whatever else makes for a great 3 day weekend.

I understand it better now.

Although you are not one of those that died that we may be free, you are one that lived for us to be free.
Your reward is the honor of your final resting place, and this day.

I know it was hard, to be away so much - to be in harms way, but you made it home, and we were blessed with you for many more years.

You have joined your comrades, a thousand salutes will forever be yours.

There will be tears of gratitude, and when the fireworks dance in the sky for generations to come, you will be one of those heroes we honor.

Thanks for serving, thanks for being strong enough to do the right things.

I understand it better now.

How great a teacher, that your lessons endure long after you are gone.

Sometimes I want to awaken from this dream, and like the Hollywood story we are all so familiar with, return to a day before all of this happened, and learn my lessons from the imaginary pain in the night.

This is real, and I can't make it go away.

This is one of those times it hurts...it will pass...I have to get busy again...stop slowing down...perhaps if I run a little faster, a little harder, work a little more...perhaps I can outrun the pain.

Time to refocus - no time for this.  I intended to honor you  by recognizing this day, not feel this all over again.

I'll be okay.


This I know, this I believe, that one day...I will see you again.

But until then, I will continue growing, learning, and healing.

Happy Memorial Day.

We are proud of you, and proud to be "of you."

One more thing...

Just one more thing to take care of, then you disappear.

Your house is scheduled to sell soon.

All that remains is what we carry in our hearts.

It is still hard to grasp, the fact you are gone.

Sometimes I wonder if I did enough, could I have insisted on different medical procedures, could we have saved you?

I assume all survivors go through this.

I no longer pick up the phone, wanting to call you and tell you the latest news; I no longer feel the heaviness of missing you...as often.

I still feel it...and I wonder...I hope...that you were "gone" at the end, that you never felt the struggle of those final days.

I found some videos of you, and it was so strange...you went to the hospital in December for a stomach ailment...30 days later, you were gone.  Although the disease usually takes 8 to 10 years to reach this stage, it appears you had been ill for a very long time, and we just did not know.

Sometimes that is the hardest thing to comprehend...you were so ill, and our lives were running at full speed, without any idea you were hearing the call to go home.

Perhaps the sorrow I feel is normal, the questions, the "20-20 hind sight" is par for the course...

Just one more thing...and all that remains is what we carry in our hearts.

I think that is best.

In my heart, you are still a young man giving me rides on your motorcycle...cooking out on the grill on summer nights...

In my heart, you will always be young, strong and smart.  I try not to remember the image at the end, the shell of a man.  Instead, I believe you had already left and were standing at the door of your mother and father's new home...calling them like you always did...

Smiling, and happy about going home.

Goodbye Dad, I will never stop missing you, but it is time to start running my own race again, and save my tears for when I am alone.