Veteran's Day

Veteran's Day

Had hoped for an end to the fighting,
The killing,
The pain.

The bad dream is passed down through the ages,
The wanting to fight,
Not for poets or sages.

Takes a strong man or woman to conquer a foe,
Many die, or are wounded, Body & Soul.
Once they're safely back home, adjustment is slow,
 interrupted by pain, sorrow, regret and no dough.

The shelling a whistle in their deepest dark dreams,
The waking a panic,
Checking for their limbs.

My Dad, a Marine, 91 years of age, rugged WW2 Vet,
With a heart, if you let Him run the controls,
He's in charge & his old ways are set.

His grandfather came to US as a lad,
To escape Army service, in his Prussian native land.
Dad and his brother fought in the war,
Dad told me it was nothing,
He lied now I know,
Whether fighting or training or planning for war,
War is Hell, I know you have heard it before.

To all Veterans & families, friends, neighbors & all Americans,
Be proud of our nation,
We would not be here without them.

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Happy Birthday Dad

You Always know what to say

91 Today

  

You and Mom had quite a time,

Some of it did not rhyme

Most was as good as it ever gets,

So don’t go havin’ no regrets.

When Mom was 68, she had a heart attack.
We did not know if she would make it
Dad ended up buying her a ring, on a credit card, for a lot of money.
He was excited like a school boy. Look Mary, do you think she will like it?
Oh yes, I remarked, hoping she would not kill him for charging such a piece.
She snapped his head off.
I was surprised at how she could cut him to the quick, lashing.
I was seeing an intimate moment I wished I had not, although,
My Father apologized and let her trade it in on a diamond tennis bracelet
Years later I told Mom that story. She did not remember the altercation or the ring.
Or how much Dad really loved her.
I love you Dad, Happy Birthday

Technorati Tags: Dad,Dad and Mom

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his hand

I held his hand

once so powerful,

now a weak and frail hand.

all the hard times

honed his core of strength,

now his strength is a burden

keeping him from joining mom.

go see mom he kept saying,

i could not remind him,

she is gone,

was it torture?

no just the painful to watch

dwindles of an old man.

how can I,

I thought,

make all this better?

for him, me, everyone?

I am at a loss, too close to him,

all i could do was hold his hand,

breathe in his pain and suffering,

and exhale slowly

visualizing his serenity and peace at last.

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