Everyone Needs to Know Uncle David
Wednesday, July 12, 2023
EVERYIONE NEEDS TO KNOW UNCLE DAVID -Tribute
DEAR VETERAN -Fictional Tribute
Dear Veteran
Dear Veteran,
Please forgive my selfish heart. We sat together at the airport, and I only observed you during my layover. I regret not getting up and buying you a meal. You see, I was bitter at the two-hour inconvenience on my time. Yet, your military service took at least four years of your life. I should have at least said hi. Although I intended to work on my laptop, my eyes kept settling on you. You seemed abandoned as you slumped in your wheelchair. Your unkempt hair and dirty veteran jacket made you look like you were rescued from the street, only to be abandoned at gate B12.
I never saw one person approach you as if you had a disease they feared catching. The seats around you remained empty, although many people stood as if they would have liked a place to sit. Did you feel the people avoid you? Does that happen often?
What was your story? You were probably a badass during your day as you protected our country. I imagine you running around in your prime, hanging with your buddies, and chasing girls. What countries did you see?
Were you a young boy drafted into the service right out of high school? Did you leave a girl at home? Maybe you decided to enter the military and made it into a career. You could have had a family that followed you from base to base, feeling desperate to establish roots yet never could.
I hadn’t taken the time to notice what branch you served in. I should have. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to live in the belly of a submarine. If you did, did you miss the sun? Of course, you could have been a tank driver, rolling the metal beast over anything that dared get in your way.
When you went to war, did you get shot? Chances are, you went to fight as a boy but came home as a man, possibly a broken man. Did your small town throw a homecoming party for you? I hope you have had the chance to lead liberty parades where you have been honored.
I don’t know if you are in a wheelchair because you stepped on a land mine in deployment. Could you have spent time in a dingy hospital in another country as foreigners nursed you to health? I bet that would be scary. Maybe you were a medic in the war and pulled your brethren out of the grips of death. Or, you could have been locked in a cell, a prisoner of war, unsure if you would ever hug your mom again. Speaking of your mom, how many sleepless nights did she spend on her knees praying for your safe return?
What did you sacrifice as you served our country? Did you leave for war during your college education, never having the chance to resume it when you returned? I picture you shivering in a foxhole as your comrades died around you. -or fighting in a field, not knowing if you would live for even an hour more. You certainly have experienced more fear than anyone at the airport. Were you ground-auxiliary or flying in the sky?
Are fireworks hard for you to listen to, triggering a horrific episode of PTSD?
As I watched you at the airport, the more my heart broke for you. No one seemed to notice you or even care. You seemed more like an abandoned piece of luggage than a human. You, who once fought for us, have been degraded to a wheelchair. At one point, you likely were the poster soldier for fitness. The world has forsaken you. Even I rejected you.
If I had to do it again, I would have taken you to one of the restaurants and bought you a meal. As you told me about your incredible adventures, I would have looked you in the eyes. I wonder when the last time someone looked you in the eyes was. Maybe if I had met you on the street, I would have wheeled you into a barbershop and gotten you a nice haircut. We could have gone on a shopping spree, where I would have bought you clean new clothes. You deserve to look sharp and be respected.
Who am I kidding? I probably would never do those things, even though I should have. Please forgive me for my self-centered behavior. Please forgive me for not getting to know your story.
Thank you for your service and sacrifices. Thank you for doing what I was too scared to do for our country. And if I ever have the chance to see you again, may I take the time to get to know you.
May God bless you for your service.
___________________________________________________________________
Dear Veteran
by Stephanie Daich
THE INCREDIBLE FLYING DOG -Fiction
The Incredible Flying Dog
Maybe it was my fault. How could I have known what would
happen that day on the beach when I begged my mom to bring our toy poodle?
"Please, can we take Shasta with us?"
Mom pulled the lunch meat from the fridge and dropped it in
the cooler. She had spent the morning getting our things ready for the outing.
I guess I could have helped, but I preferred staying wrapped in my blanket on
the couch. Why did we have to get up so early on a Saturday?
"I don't know." Mom reached back into the fridge.
"Please, Shasta loves the beach."
"She's just a mess at the beach. She barks at other
dogs. She poops. I just want to go to the beach and relax and not worry about
some dog."
"She ain't some dog! She's family, and she deserves to
go. And I will take care of her, so you don't have to."
"Sure you will."
"You don't believe me?"
Mom dropped the lettuce in the cooler and turned to me.
"You always promise to help with the dog, and then it ends up being me
that does it."
"No, I promise. You won't even know she is
there."
"Err, I don't want this." Mom wiped her hands on
her apron and placed them on her hip. This usually showed she had reluctantly
given in.
We drove for five years until we reached the beach. The
beach better be worth such a long drive. At least I had Shasta to keep me
company as we cozied in my blanket. I ran my hands through her soft fur,
ignoring her nasty dog breath.
Shasta bound out of the car when we got to the beach and
ran in circles in the sand. I was right. She loved it there. Her tongue flapped
on her face as she hunted the seagulls. She found an abandoned treat and ate it
before I could stop her.
Shasta barked at the waves, running in and out of them. She
had found her heaven.
"Aren't you glad I brought her?" I said as Mom
lugged our beach gear.
Mom didn't answer my question. A chair slipped out of her
hands as she tried to balance the beach bag and cooler. "You could help
carry more."
I had a pile of towels; didn't that make Mom happy?
"Well, I have to be able to help Shasta at any
moment," I said, avoiding carrying more than I had to.
"Tsk."
After finding the perfect spot, we laid out the beach
blanket.
"I am starving. Let's eat lunch first," Mom said.
I stood with my toes in the water. The coldness turned them
into ice cubes. "Lunch sounds good to me." I had yet to commit to
freezing my whole body.
I joined Mom on the beach blanket as she crafted our
lunches. The warm rays messaged my body as I basked in the sun.
Shasta explored the water's edge and jumped on the blanket
to join us. She collected sand on her way over, clumps of mud sticking to her
fur.
She rolled on the blanket, getting muddy-sand everywhere!
Mom lost it when Shasta plopped her body on the cutting board where Mom had
fresh tomatoes.
"Get this dog off the blanket!" Mom yelled.
"Mom, she doesn't know better."
"But you do."
I grabbed Shasta and put her in the sand. Shasta returned
to the blanket, making it a game.
"OFF, NOW!"
"Geez, you don't have to get so mad."
I rescued Shasta from Mom's wrath and ran with her across
the beach while Mom shook off the blanket and finished preparing lunch. I didn't
eat on the blanket because I didn't know how to keep Shasta off it.
With a satisfied belly, I plunged into the water. My breath
left me as the coldness tightened my chest.
"How is it?" Mom asked as she paddled next to me
on the kayak.
"Freezing. Get in with me."
"No, I don't do the cold. I will just kayak while you
swim. You have fun."
Bark. Bark. Bark.
Shasta had little dog syndrome, chasing after two Blue
Healers.
"Go get that dog!"
I swam to the edge and ran as quickly as I could. Shasta
crouched with her hair on edge. She snarled and bared her teeth.
"Shasta! Shasta! Stop it! Come here!" I yelled,
but she didn't listen. Thankfully the other dogs only looked at her and didn't
attack. They could have snapped her in one bite.
I bent down and grabbed her.
"Dumb, dog," I scolded, carrying her back to our
things.
After a few minutes, I put her down and returned to the
water.
"What are you doing? You can't leave her alone. She
will just chase the next dog that comes by."
"What am I supposed to do?" I whined. "I
want to swim."
"I told you she would be a mess."
Ignoring Mom, I kept playing in the water.
"What are you doing? I am serious. She can't be left
alone."
I got out of the water and sat with Shasta on the beach. My
mood soured. How stupid. I wanted to swim.
I watched other kids enjoying the water as I sat on the
beach babysitting a dumb dog.
"What if I tie her leash to the canopy?" I asked
when brilliance hit me.
"I guess that will work."
"Yay!"
I tied Shasta up and dove into the water.
Eventually, I joined Mom in the kayak, and we had a great
time until the wind picked up. I don't know where it had come from because the
weather had been pleasant up to that point. But it arrived like an angry school
principal, with full fury.
Mom struggled to keep us from being dragged out to sea. We
both paddled with all our strength and made little progress.
Meanwhile, a gust or, let's say, a tornado came and picked
our canopy in the air. Poor Shasta dangled. At least she had a harness on. If
the leash had connected to her collar, it would have strangled her.
"Shasta!" I screamed. I paddled harder so we
could rescue my dog.
The wind hadn't finished. It sent the canopy across the
beach like a tumbleweed.
Poor Shasta. She barked and barked in a tone I had never
heard as she moved across the beach. And with her leash tied to the top of the
canopy, she flew in the air like a kite.
Shasta was a kite! The wind kept the leash tight as she
soared to the side.
Despite the crazy storm, everyone stopped to watch a dog
fly.
I jumped off the kayak and swam the last of the distance. I
ran to the canopy and flipped it upright, catching my dog on her way back down.
"My poor baby," I said, holding her shaking body
next to mine. Thankfully, later the vet said she was fine, with no broken
bones.
"Just shook up."
Someone posted Shasta on Tic Tok that night, and she went
viral as the "flying dog."
"So, the next time we go to the beach, you will leave
her home, right?" Mom said as we watched Shasta's video for the millionth
time.
"What do you think about a dog playpen?" I asked.
"Then, you would have a dog in a flying saucer when
the wind comes."
I laughed. I guess Mom was right. Shasta was a mess at the
beach..
I realized that day how much work dogs take. But I also
learned that dogs could fly.
_____________________________________________________________________
The Incredible Flying Dog
by Stephanie Daich

