When I was 7 years old on a snowy, icy morning I held my mom's hand

[ananda]

16. This reminds me of my dad's funeral.

The Navy came out in their dress whites
and did a gun salute ceremony.

I cried buckets. I had just learned that
he had gotten the Distinguished Flying
Cross for his role in the Battle of Leyte
Gulf.

He never really liked talking about the
war, and none of us kids knew about
the cross.

I did manage to get him to talk about
it more late in his life, and the stories
were just amazing.

I hate to think of the pass we've come
to now with krazy Republikans leading
us to "Armageddon" in the craziest,
stupidest way possible.