Dancing With The Enemy
My Dad died shortly before 9/11. My ten year old nephew found him lying on the kitchen floor with a cookie in his hand. For my nephew, his buddy was gone. Neither of my parents were in good health during their lives. They lived in an era where doctors smoked with them in hospital rooms. I'm glad he never saw what happened on September 11th and I'm glad he will never read the tweet from our recent president who claims the North Korean dictator is his friend. What a fucking slap in the face to all the men and women who fought for their freedom. I was just a child who sat at our kitchen table and watched my Dad go somewhere else as he stared off into the past. I remember him describing a day they were hunkered down in a field as Chinese soldiers fired upon them. He then said he had never felt so cold. It seeped into their skin and bones and he could smell the death of his fellow soldiers. Eventually, he stopped talking about those days to us, but he never stopped thinking about ...