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Wednesday, December 15, 2010

“You have got to stop this war in Afghanistan.”

Richard Holbrook’s last words.  Although there seems to be some dispute about that.

I want to believe that these were his last words.  I want to believe that the mission of ending the war in Afghanistan never left him.  I want to believe in men like Richard Holbrook, in their dedication to our country.

I want this war over.  At the same time, I want Afghanistan out of the dark ages.

When this war was just an idea, I found myself at my friend Catherine & her husband Jim’s house, the only Democrat among a plethora of Republicans, including a Marine in the National Guard.
I was also the eldest present.

The only one who experienced or remembered Vietnam.

Fiercely pro-invasion, these young people did not want to hear about watching the war play out in the news, seeing the draped coffins come home, standing graveside with grieving friends who lost their siblings.  

They did not want to hear that during my years in DC, I never was able to walk the entire wall of the Vietnam Memorial.

While I did not feel pressured or defeated by the those against my stance, one of Cat & Jim’s friends, Judd, standing next to me, put his arm around me & said:  “I don’t agree with your position, but I defend & respect your right to voice it.  I won’t let you stand alone.”

He stood with me for a very long time.

He did not let me stand alone.

Like the Army:  No man left behind.

Monday, December 13, 2010

Jean & Memory

Today Jean came to me & said I know this is a strange thing for me to be thinking about. . .\She paused & I waited.
But I cannot remember when Papa John died.  I can’t remember what kind of funeral he had or if I took you.

I told my mother that I remember a moment when my grandfather died – a look on my father’s face.  But I did not remember the funeral, that I thought they had not taken me.

Papa John used to keep peppermint Life Savers in his pocket for me.  He used to take me to Love Field to watch the planes.

Jean & her friend Bill used to take Sam out to Hull Airport to watch the planes.

Sam loved planes, a legacy from his great-grandfather.  Whom he was never to know
.
I don’t know what else Jean has forgotten.  

But I will do my best to fill in the blanks.