With a nod to the Veterans around the world, I send love. My own dad was a Veteran, but it wasn’t war that took his life. His single-engine plane made a nose-dive into the earth when he was just 26 years old. I was a toddler of only 18 months. That young age, does not imply I am without memories….
I recall the cold tile on my pudgy baby thighs as he sat me next to the kitchen sink, tiny mosaic hexagon shaped tiles set with darker grout as my seat.
I have a memory of tiny fists gripping chain link as my grandmother pointed to the sky, saying, “That’s your daddy way up there….”
It’s sad, and of course impactful in ways I cannot begin to know, to lose a daddy. But I am really glad he wasn’t killed in war. That scenario would have impacted me differently. And I prefer to see him flying “way up there….”