Little Moments

Every now and then in one's life you are faced with a situation you are unprepared for and unfailingly shocked by. Perhaps that moment will bring you closer to another, perhaps it will tear you apart. Perhaps it will be the start of a journey you did not expect, the mystery of it's conclusion pulling you further in. Everyone has these moments; we probably have them more than we know. They are the little turning points in the road called life that we all travel and inevitably they have a profound effect.

I had one such moment over the weekend and it will stay with me for as long as I live. This weekend was by no means a good one. I spent the majority of it cooped up in a u-haul driving through a blizzard with my dad in the passenger seat. Not anyone's idea of a rockin' good time, but it had to be done. I officially live in DC. I have a permanent address and everything. I want to do a little dance, but I don't think my co-workers would appreciate the visual.

As I said, my dad drove here with me and decided to stay a few extra days. I was excited and nervous as my dad and I have never spent much time alone together. It's sad to say, but my brother is my father's child and I am most definitely my mother's. Needless to say, I was looking forward to some one and one time with him. Since we got here and got the truck unloaded on Saturday, I decided to take him sightseeing on Sunday. We hit very monument on the wall - the Capitol Building, the Washington Monument, the World War 2 Memorial, the Korean War Memorial, the Lincoln Memorial, and the Vietnam Memorial. It was at the last that my moment occurred. First, my father being a man of very few words, I was startled when he said he wanted to find someone's name on the wall. I was even more taken aback when we found the name and there, standing in the middle of DC, I saw my father cry for the 4th time in my entire life. I wonder a little what he was crying for......what happened there? Who was this person that could cause so much emotion for such an unemotional man? Was it actually this man he was crying for or perhaps the memory of many lost comrades? I don't know, because I couldn't bring myself to ask. What I could do was take his hand and stand there solemnly as he remembered things I'm sure I can't even imagine. Then, as we quietly walked away I wondered just how much there is that I don't know about my father. I think maybe it's time I make the effort to get to know him.