Craig’s dad

A little late, but a Memorial Day snippet —

“I’d like to tell you about my father.”

Carl took his hand, curling their fingers together.

“Please do, my love, I‘m listening.”    Craig nodded, doing a slow blink—working up his courage. He hadn’t realized how hard this was going to be.

“He died in Vietnam before I was born. Mom found out she was pregnant with me after he had already shipped out. They had bought their wedding rings, and he took his with him so he could keep it close.”  Carl kept silent, still holding Craig’s hand.

“She had sent a wire, telling him about me, but she knew he wouldn’t be able to answer, they were just winding the war down, and they were trying to evacuate everyone.  My dad was trying to get a group of people on a bus, and–he was hit by some delivery truck, I–I don’t know, trying to get a place to get out.  He died in the hospital, two days after.”  He had an ironic grin on his face. “I always wondered if he was bitter about dying because of a traffic accident in the middle of a war zone instead of being shot by the enemy.  I never got up the courage to ask my mom that. She got the telegram about me back when one of my dad’s buddies brought it to her.”  Craig had a sad, wistful expression on his face.

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