I remember when you had to go back, and we watched the news every
evening, with crossed fingers, prepared for the worst news, and yet watching
every clip on the screen for even the slightest glimpse of your face.

I remember years later, after you had finally come home, through all
the houses, jobs, schools, how you took me to see Apocalypse Now and
broke out in a sweat, curling the plastic arm rests on the theatre seat back
until they broke, speaking of jungle fever and the smells of war which
came back to you, then explaining it all to me over a cup of coffee at
McDonald's.

And I remember that through all you'd been through, How strong you
were  even in your weakest, most vulnerable moments.

That's my dad. I miss you.

Love
John