So yeah, I'm back, not sure how long though. Saying goodbye is always difficult, but I never found it so hard to come to grips with than while I was away.
I saw my grandparents for a day when I managed to get back to the world. Met them for dinner one night and was supposed to spend the next day with them but they got the fuck outta dodge like it was their job before I even got up the next day. Crass? Rough? Cold? Maybe...until you realize they could not come to grips with saying goodbye, and just left before it got too bad.
So I am on my way back to JFK and my mother can't stomach a car ride, so she stays home. Dad drives me there and despite all I have said about the man in the past, that guy I have looked up to these 20 something years, starts to crack. You see it first in his eyes, it's hard for them to look into yours, the redness the welling up...I'm sure you've been there before. Not my father, not to this degree. Not ever. Has me worried, scared even. WTF, over?
Problem; it appears to me like they think they will never see me again. Guess that's what happens when the eldest son in the entire family goes off to help fight somebody elses war. Dad was here to after all, guess he knows I am in for some more, rather well deserved, shit. Let us not delve into politics right now, but wrong war, wrong time comes to mind and I don't have it in me to walk away without doing what I can for GI JOE.
Saying goodbye this time around was the best worst experience I have ever had.
Now if I can manage another round without taking a chunk out of someone's ear...that or getting a chunk taken out of my hide, I should be alright.
Ding, Ding, Ding.
Let's go soldier!
You're movin' like pond water son!
Sound off like you got a pair!
Round Two.
Revealed to the masses
at 7:56 AM EST
