Tomorrow is Veterans Day. You always called me on that day. Which is funny to me because you served, too. I think it was an excuse to hear my voice.
I remember a call you made to me on September 11th. Yes, THAT September 11th.
I was not prepared for the sound of your voice to be so full of fear. You are the strongest man I have ever known so as I sat in that parking lot talking to you on the phone, hearing you almost broken, pleading with me not to re-enlist I found myself detaching from my own mind. I felt my fingers dig deep into my truck’s steering wheel. I wanted to hurt something, someone for what was done on that day.
I have to do SOMETHING, dad.
Not that, mijo. Not that.
You knew I was an idealist. And reckless. Not a good combination.
Honestly, how the hell did you stay sane raising me?
I didn’t re-enlist. Between you and me, I am not sure they would have even taken me back. Being invited to leave the military- not kicked out – just told, “we want you to stay, but we’re not sad you’re leaving,” is a weird breakup.
When Dick Cheney died last week I wished I could call you. I played the conversation in my head.
Dick Cheney died, dad.
I saw the news.
The world’s a better place.
Not for everyone, mijo. I’m sure his daughter is going to miss her daddy.
Yeah, well-
Yeah well nothing. A little girl is burying her daddy, whatever you think of him.
And I would have said something smartass and you would have reminded me that I was lucky not to be close enough to smack.
Then… well then we would have had the real talk. The hundreds of thousands dead because of him. The love of money guised as love of country. And my belief that, as I observe what has become of my beloved country, the terrorists have finally won.
And you would listen. The silence would hang between us for a moment that feels like an eternity.
You wouldn’t disagree with me. You would simply remind me that I am still here. I still have love and beauty in my life. You would say something like the type of government we all live under doesn’t change any of that. If it ever does change that it will be because I allow it to change me.
Your peace is your responsibility, mijo.
Why do you always have to be right, Viejo?
And you would laugh that big laugh of yours that fills the entirety any and every space you occupy. Then some part of my soul that I wasn’t even aware was lacking would fill to the brim again.
