Eternal Memory

My Dad was across the Channel that day and for the next three days, servicing wave after wave of airplanes without sleep along with a legion of support personnel. He swore he would get breakfast in bed every June 6 for the rest of his life. My Mom obliged him for the next 20 years till he finally said, “Okay. I think I can do with breakfast in bed anymore.”

He woke for years after the war to the sound of falling bombs in his dreams.

God love him, I miss the old man. May we meet again merrily in heaven, maybe to fish the Skagit again.

If your old man is still around, tell him you love him and say thanks. These are the good old days and they will be gone before you know it.

  • Dave G.

    My old man, of the Korean War generation, passed a couple years ago. From Alzheimer’s. Therefore, in a way, we lost him twice. The man who passed no longer knew us as we stood beside him. But I’d still give everything for one more hug, even though when he did hug us toward the end, he’d forgotten why he should be hugging us in the first place.

  • Stu

    The priest who brought me into the Church, Monsignor Patrick Kemp was a coxswain on one of the landing craft during the invasion. I think of him every D-Day and pray for his soul.

  • Fiestamom

    I am grateful to him and others like him who fought for our God given rights.


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