At first there was no place for us to go until
someone put up that "Black Granite Wall." Now, everyday and
night, my Brothers and my Sisters wait to see the many people from places
afar file in front of this "Wall." Many stopping briefly and
many for hours and some that come on a regular basis. It was hard at
first, not that it's gotten any easier, but it seems that many of the
attitudes towards that Vietnam war we were involved in have changed. I can
only pray that the ones on the other side have learn something, and
more "Walls" as this one, needn't be built.
Several members of my unit, and many that I did
not recognize, have called me to The Wall by touching my name engraved
upon it. The tears aren't necessary, but are hard even for me to hold
back. Don't feel guilty for not being with me, my Brothers. This was my
destiny as it is yours, to be on that side of The Wall. Touch The
Wall, my Brothers, so that we can share in the memories that we had. I
have learn to put the bad memories aside and remember only the pleasant
times that we had together. Tell our other Brothers out there to come and
visit me, not to say Good-bye but to say Hello and be together again ...
even for a short time ... and to ease that pain of loss that we all still
share.
Today, an irresistible and loving call summons
me to The Wall. As I approach, I can see an elderly lady ... and as I get
closer, I recognize her--It's Momma! As much as I have looked
forward to this day, I have also dreaded it, because I didn't know what
reaction I would have.
Next to her, I suddenly see my wife and
immediately think how hard it must have been for her to come to this
place, and my mind floods with the pleasant memories of 30 years past.
There's a young man in a military uniform standing with his arm around
her---My God!---he has to be my son! Look at him trying to
be the man without a tear in his eye. I yearn to tell him how proud I am,
seeing him standing tall, straight and proud in his uniform.
Momma comes closer and touches The Wall, and I feel
the soft and gentle touch I had not felt in so many years. Dad has crossed
to this side of The Wall, and through our touch, I try to convey to her
that Dad is doing fine and is no longer suffering or feeling pain. I see
my wife's courage building as she sees Momma touch The Wall and she
approaches and lays her hand on my waiting hand. All the emotions,
feelings and memories of three decades past flash between our touch and I
tell her that ... it's all right ... carry on with your life and don't
worry about me .... I can see as I look into her eyes that she hears
and a big burden has been lifted from her on wings of understanding.
I watch as they lay flowers and other memories
of my past. My lucky charm that was taken from me and sent to her by my CO
... a tattered and worn teddy bear that I can barely remember having as
I grew up as a child ... and several medals that I had earned and were
presented to my wife. One is the Combat Infantry Badge that I am very
proud of, and I notice that my son is also wearing this medal. I had
earned mine in the jungles of Vietnam and he had probably earned his in
the deserts of Iraq.
I can tell that they are preparing to leave,
and I try to take a mental picture of them together, because I don't know
when I will see them again. I wouldn't blame them if they were not to
return, and can only thank them that I was not forgotten. My wife and
Momma near The Wall for one final touch, and so many years of indecision
fear and sorrow are let go. As they turn to leave, I feel my tears that
had not flowed for so many years, form as if dew drops on the other side
of The Wall.
They slowly move away with only a glance over
their shoulders. My son suddenly stops and slowly returns. He stands
straight and proud in front of me and snaps a salute. Something
draws him near The Wall and he puts his hand upon etched stone and touches
my tears that had formed dew drops on the face of The Wall ... and I can
tell that he senses my presence and the pride and love I have for him. He
falls to his knees and the tears flow from his eyes and I try my best to
reassure him that it's all right, and the tears do not make him
less of a man. As he moves back wiping the tears from his eyes, he
silently mouths, "God Bless you, Dad ...."
God Bless, YOU, Son ... we WILL meet
someday, but in the meanwhile, go on your way ... there is no hurry ...
there is no hurry at all.
As I see them walk off in the distance, I yell
out to THEM and EVERYONE there today, as loud as I can: