My family

My Family

 

     My mother is still alive but I have spoken to my father for close to 10 years.  The last time I did was in December of 2003, right before my deployment to Iraq.  It really surprises me that he has made no contact with me since both of my tours to the Middle East.  How can my father forget about his oldest son who followed his footsteps?

     I was about 4 or 5 years old when my father was stationed in Frankfurt, Germany.  The visions of seeing the 1^st Armored Division patch are still painted in my mind.  That multi colored triangle with the tank tracks running through middle was always present in my household.  It was a great time to be an only child because of the constant attention.  I still remember whenever my father was going out to the field to do training maneuvers.  My mother made it a point to hide little reminders of us in his personal bag.  I guess to let him know what was waiting for him when he returned.  Everything seemed great and I was having the time of my young life; I can only assume that by all the pictures my parents took of us in various parts of Europe during my father’s stay in active duty. 

     I guess that’s why it’s odd to me that we haven’t talked since that December day of 2003.  After all those letters, notes, pictures and cards I left him when I was young maybe he would at least pick up a phone.   I mean my mother, kids, aunts and uncles emailed often just to see how I was doing during those tours.  I even received care packages on a bi-weekly basis from friends and church members that worried about my welfare.  I thought that I would have been lucky to have been raised by both my mother and father.  Two loving parents are better than one but in my case I realized that I don’t need him.  In fact it only has helped me to be a better father.  If I feel like this right now has an adult I can only imagine how my children will fill in their young age.  I won’t fail them like I’ve been failed by my father.  The first of the five combat patches I earned during my deployments is a constant reminder of my father.  It was the one that I admired and was raised on while in Germany.  The name on the patch was “Old Ironsides” and it stood for the 1^st Armored Division.  Its funny how things can come full circle but then again they always do.