It's been a while since I've known my dad as anything but a man with dementia who calls me sweetheart and reciprocates his love for me in hugs and words. Growing up, I can remember him teaching me how to ride a bike and perfect my gymnastics routines, "point your toes, straighten your legs!" He was gentle, warm, loving and always so supportive. He was the bees knees and the cats meow. I'm pretty sure there isn't an evil bone in his body and his acceptance of people for who they are is something else. He lived and let live, truly and authentically. He called me sweetheart or mami until he started getting Alzheimer's, then I just became Erica, until just recently once again.
My pops rarely talked about his experience in Vietnam until a few years ago. The memories were so profoundly stored away that I believe its what led to his Alzheimer's, a subconscious attempt to forget it all. This and the fact that in Vietnam he was exposed to Agent Orange. When he finally did speak out, I learned about his first assignment, solo, isolated on a hilltop, monitoring for any intruders. He would radio back to central if he saw anything suspicious. They would drop food for him every week. I'm pretty sure I've told this story before, but it has stayed with me because my dad was such a social dude. To leave his sweet soul alone on a hill-top as his very first exposure to war was a form of torture. I can imagine him terrified and constantly on guard, never having an opportunity to just breathe or even smile.
Later his stories became increasingly disturbing. He talked about having to take care of these 'kids', though he was only 24 at the time and seeing them die left and right and in his arms. My dad joined the Peace Corps to avoid the draft. Killing people was never in his realm of thought or possibility, until it was forced upon him.
Now he lives, but is not alive, he just wakes up, eats food, sits on the couch and sleeps the majority of the day. We've chalked it up to Alzheimers thinking that it was a natural progression of the disease. My momma is hypervigilant about his doctors appointments and lab work. I bet he sees a doc about once a month. But in the past few months his blood count has been low and they have finally figured out why.
My dad likely has a type of leukemia that is linked to Agent Orange. We find out for sure tomorrow, but it's not looking good. I'm terrified I'm going to lose my dad after all this time of already 'losing' my dad. I hang on to the few moments of lucidness that allow me to get hugs and kisses and 'I love you sweetheart' from him, because they still exist and they won't if his body leaves the Earth.
Thank you dad for serving our country. Thank you to all you Veterans who have given your mind, bodies and souls away to the devil that is mandated violence. I hope you can find beauty and love despite all the trauma you endured.
