Do I believe in fate and destiny? Perhaps to a certain extent. Do I think a huge disappointment will ultimately lead me to a much more fulfilling life?
Maybe I do.
But the funny part is that sort of clarity only happens after the next great thing occurs, so I can think: "Oh and that's why that happened?"
I do know this week that I've made some great friends in this town. And perhaps my path crossed with them so I could do more in my future. They fill in gaps. They drink with me, dance, listen, but most importantly they show up.
But cancer? No. That just fucking sucks.
The Vietnam War? I got a bone to pick with you. I don't need to be a political activist to understand that the war ruined the best part of my father.
And what does he get for bravely enlisting when others ran?
Exposure to Agent Orange and now spinal cancer.
Lung cancer+ throat cancer+ spinal cancer+= No more treatment available.
Do you think our government is standing up saying "we're sorry. What can we do?"
What my dad got for his bravery and his heart and soul was a few dollars which got shrunk down to nothing when he was deemed healthy enough to return to work.
He can't work. His job was very physical. He climbed trees. Manned chain saws. Swung from ropes.
We're gonna fight for the rest of his benefits so my dad may enjoy whatever time is allowed to travel. To see things. To smoke if he wants. Have a drink.
The motto of the United States Marine Corp: The few. The Proud. The Marines.
My dad is proud. He is brave. He is dying.
He is mine. He is my brothers.
He is Loved.