Fatherless Day

Fatherless Day

We were

a family.

Daddy, Mommy,

my two brothers,

my three-legged dog,

and my parakeet, Charlie.

Together we nurtured

each other.

Daddy hugged Mommy.

My brothers and I hugged

our parents.

My dog licked me silly.

Charlie chirped to our family dance.

And we WERE family.

Complete.

Adjusted.

Life flowed.

Predictable.

And then Daddy went away.

I heard words of war.

I heard words of far-away places.

I heard words of sorrow.

My mommy's smiling face

became tear-stained.

Daddy was in Iraq.

And no one talked to me about it.

No one talked to my brothers about it.

But dinner time became quiet.

And our stability as a family,

well, wasn't.

And night time became

NIGHTMARE time.

Because those tears on

mommy's tear-stained face

Somehow became my tears.

And my brothers fought.

And I fought with them.

And Mommy YELLED

at us.

And our adjusted family

became MALadjusted.

And then the unspeakable

spoke.

One day, I was playing

with my dog,

And Charlie was trying

to chirp the family dance.

When the door knocked.

And two men were there.

Two men in military uniform.

And my mommy opened the

door.

And she screamed,

And I screamed, because

my mommy was terrified.

And the dog barked,

and Charlie flew out the front door.

And the men talked in low

voices and left us.

And now our family, isn't so much

anymore.

Because nothing seems to matter to

my mommy, my brothers, or my three-legged dog.

Charlie never came back.

Just like my daddy.

And this Sunday

will be Fatherless Day for my family,

AGAIN.

Why do adults kill each other?

Daddy, why?