Memorial Day and memories. I remember being in the service during the Viet Nam war, and seeing a soldier’s mother escorting his Vietnamese wife around the hospital. She was pregnant and spoke little English. I remember reading in my high school alumni newsletter about those from my class that had served and made the ultimate sacrifice. I remember being stationed in Hawaii at the end of the war, and how we processed medical samples for Vietnamese people that were being evacuated. I remember a friend that I went to school with at Fort Sam Houston, who had served in Vietnam. He had a meltdown when he and his wife came home from Christmas shopping and saw their Christmas tree tipped over (on its own, no pets involved). Memories can heal us, or they can haunt us.
(c) May 2022 Bonnie Cehovet
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Flash Fiction 