I never thought that I would live as long as I have. I never thought I deserved the privilege of having a wonderful family and the many friends I have had the pleasure of knowing. But, I have lived a good life. I did the best that I could do with the life I was given. I always tried to make the best out of things, even when they seemed hopeless. I spent many years lost, trying to find a reason why I had survived when so many of my friends had never gotten the luxury of coming home from war. Many times I wished that I was one of the fallen. I think being left behind is about the worst luck you could have. I know that they would ride my ass for feeling sorry for myself as long as I have. But I think the impact of their deaths hits me even more as an old man. I have had sons that I held in their first minutes of life, and seen then advance beyond the age so many had not. And I saw that child have a child of his own and grow to be a young man. So much they have missed out on. So many of them better than I. But this is what a solider must carry. This is the secrete we take to the grave, that even though we survived, even though we came home..home was never enough to erase the ones we left behind. In all we accomplish, we think of them. we carry them in our lives as if they had been right there all along. I hadn't realized this myself, until I came here, to the end of my life.
It is true what they say you know, when death is close, everything seems to start to line up. All the answers you thought desperately to find, the answers are meaningless now. I don't care. All I care about it what have I done, what will stand here when I no longer exist. Will the people in my life say that I am a good man, that I was brave, that I loved and forgave and did all that was asked of me? These are the things that matter in the end. I suppose it comforts me to know that I have left enough money behind for my children to have a little bit of a safety egg. My wife would be relieved to know that. I lost my wife ten years ago, and I miss her more and more as the days pass. I wonder if she thought this way at the end? Did she question if she was a good women? I wish I had told her that she was the best women I knew. I wish there was a lot of things i said.
I have never been the type of man you could describe as open. I don't complain, I don't bitch when I hurt, I just deal with it. I try to show my love but I knew it was never really enough. My wife Margret, she loved her romance stories, and she loved it when any one was getting married or having children. She wasn't overly emotional, she just enjoyed the experience of watching love take shape in peoples lives. I know that she wished that I would be more romantic. I attempted the usual flowers and a nice night out to dinner but I was never very creative to come up with my own ideas. When I was in my thirties and my law firm was taking off, I admit I made my secretary by all the gifts and plan all the events. I was made to look like the hero, but I never put in any of the time and effort I should have. I suppose to them it was enough, but not to me.
I regret not being the type of father that could look at their children and just say they love them. I tried there as well. I would give a tap on the head or a hug but I could never seem to find the right words to say. I wondered if they really know how much they mean to me? I wonder if they know that watching who they have become has filled me with more pride than anything I personally accomplished. I wish I was a lot of things, but my biggest wish is, i wish I was the father my children deserved to have.
A part of myself never came back from war. As much as I tried and tried to put it behind me, I never really got my full self back. I no longer have night terrors, and the flashbacks are very far in between. But there was a time I was a haunted man. There was a time that I did things I wish I could erase altogether. I drank too much, I betrayed my wife too much. I was a pitiful man, until my wife came down and dragged my sorry butt to the church. She even tied me to the bed once so I couldn't sneak off to the bar while she was out grocery shopping. She was determined to show me that I was worth better, and she hung on every miserable heart wrenching minute of it. When I yelled and cursed and screamed out, she would just be kinder to me. When I finally broke, she would hold me as she held our children when they were hurt. She fought her way into the pit of my soul and pulled me out of hell. Because she loved me. Because she believed in me. I never deserved her, I knew that the day I married her. But there was never a day that passed, even after she was gone that I didn't thank god for giving her to me. I wouldn't be who I am, I wouldn't of had this life without her. A part of me is happy to know that soon enough, I wont have to ever part from her again. She wasn't just my wife, she was my best friend. We did everything together for fifty seven years. I have been a lost drifting soul without her there to guide me. I miss her to the core of desperation. She was one hell of a women. I wish she had gotten more time with the kids then I.
I know that it is only a matter of time before I go now. I'm hooked to more machines then I think anyone is supposed to be in one life time. I cant stay awake too long with the drugs they give me. All I have now are my thoughts, and as the minutes pass I walk back in my mind, back to a time before I knew the ugliness of man, before I met the one women who gave me a reason to live, and from there, I live over and over again.
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