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?