I Wish I Hadn't Done That

I came away from a conversation with my brother feeling so bad yesterday. I did a foolish thing without thinking, isn't that usually how a foolish " thing" happens? I felt his pain and I wanted to crawl into a hole. Let me preface this by saying that my brother, Gene, is the source of a great deal of pride for me( post reference My Brother My Hero). I love my children and grandchildren and they fill me to overflowing, but this guy..well, he has a part of me like no other. We share family history, childhood memories and emotional baggage.

Gene's phone calls are fun, funny, helpful and always nostalgic. Sometimes we share childhood memories about family that are no longer with us, and sometimes we share recipes..he can cook! Sometimes he just likes to talk about Viet Nam, friends lost and the Corps. Yesterday we were sharing high school experiences and we laughed as he recalled that at his High School graduation party their entertainment was the Beach Boys and Dick and Dee Dee, yep I had forgotten. I remembered that our cousin Sally had gone to school with one of the Beach Boys, but had forgotten about them playing for the BHS graduating Class of 1964. There were only four high schools in town at that time and they all shared the graduation entertainment..cool.
Then he asked me who had sang the song, "I Was Born A Woman", he said he couldn't remember. Naturally, since he is not an Internet person, I jumped right on and put it on Rhapsody and began to play it.

"Please turn it off, turn it off", and with those words I realized what I had done. This was one of the songs that one of his buddies played all the time while "in country" and he had been blown to bits. His name was Sloan and he had married his childhood sweetheart while on leave. He loved that song because she loved it and played it constantly. I could hear the pain in my brother's voice and then he kind of chuckled and said , " yeah.. I can hear Roy Orbison and remember exactly where I was and what I was doing, Bobby Vinton's, Lonely Soldier, and another memory comes. ( trailing off) He was quite a character, short kid, had to roll his pants up so he wouldn't trip over them ..good guy."

Music has always been able to transport me back to a special place in time and it has always been a friend. For the first time I saw it as something totally different and I felt ridiculously stupid. He was 20 when he went to Viet Nam and he was so much older when he came home.
Duty and Honor and knowing if you didn't do your job someone else would have to, kept him strong in the battle. Knowing that his experience could help another "green" make it through another mission brought him close to re-upping and a bullet ( he was wounded Feb 1967) saved my mother from the agony of going through another 15 months of pure torment.

I pray for his ghosts to give him peace, he carries his fallen comrades with him daily, he remembers them, he hears their laughter, sees their blank stares and sees each one pack up their personal belongings, a routine no a ritual before battle...I hate war...but I respect every participant. I love my brother......