The box stood packed away high on a closet shelf for over twenty-five years. Packed by my mother, it contained the letters, photographs, medals, and important papers that had once belonged to my deceased brother, Gary. It was serendipitous that I came to open the box and read the letters. Not having read them since I was a child, the time period was brought back to life for me. It was as if I could hear my brother speaking – it was as if he were still alive and I was listening to him talk about his life.
I haven't seen the Vietnam Memorial.
Even typing the words makes me tremble a bit.
I have seen photographs of it.
It seems to me to be one of the most beautiful and poignant memorials ever conceived.
I started over to DC a few years ago while visiting the Baltimore area.
Turned around about 30 miles away. Couldn't stop shaking.
I have to see it... I do.
Going to DC in September and I will be brave and I will go. Perhaps to find a name or two. Perhaps to sit from afar the first time.
I will most likely go alone.
But I will go.
This time.
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