Today

is Veteran's Day. My father is a (or I guess I should
say "was" a 30 year Navy vet), but I didn't think about
it much until a few minutes ago when I turned on the tv
and the History channel was showing a film about Guam.

Dad was there. Dad was so many places I know he wished
he'd never been.

Mom told me yesterday that his picture would be in the paper
today. She sent in information for a spread the paper does
every year for Veteran's Day. She asked me to make copies
for my siblings, and I told her I would. I saw the spread this
morning but closed the paper immediately when I saw Dad.

And I had not thought of the day or Dad since.

Yesterday, I was driving to another town about 40 miles
from here for training. I was southbound. I was about 2 miles
into my drive when I had to get out of the passing lane
and back into the far right because a huge animal (a deer,
I assume) was splattered in the passing lane. It must have
just been hit before I got there because steam was still
rising from its warm body in the 30 degree morning air.

I got about 20 more miles down the road and an ambulance,
northbound, was heading toward home. I thought about my
dad and about his last trip on this planet. He was brought home
from Louisville in an ambulance. He was facing the rear, so things
were very confusing to him. He was confused enough.

I don't understand why someone else didn't understand the
need to cover the window or have the patient faced in the
direction he or she would normally face in a vehicle.

It was all so troubling for him. I spent most of the rest
of the day thinking about what he told me when he
arrived here in town.

I guess I thought I would be better by now. And I guess
I am, but I wonder if I'll ever really be better. If I'll ever
not think about those last days of his life. If I'll ever just let
myself remember the good days.

I can't get there. I can't see them. I can't feel them.