On That Day

Young Girl

I was three years old when my father died.

He was a member of a special ops team in Viet Nam, and little is known about what they were doing that night when he lost both of his arms and most of his face, attempting to disarm a booby trap in an underground cave.  He survived the flight back to the States, and the following two days in intensive care. But the damage to his brain was beyond repair. They pulled the plug on his supply of air, and within minutes his heart stopped beating, and he was gone.

I remember being there, sitting outside his room, listening to my mother who was kneeling on the floor next to his bed, sobbing, then crying…in a way I’d never heard before.

On that day, in that moment, I became who I am.

* * *

Posted on Veteran’s Day – November 11, 2011

I love you dad.


3 Responses

  1. Heartrending moment beautifully described. May you pass through the heroic soul you have inherited from your mom and dad to a free and richly full Life.

  2. Explored. Discovered.

    I don’t “Like” it. Too close to home.

    May want more. Not sure.


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