Fleeting Memories
As I drank coffee this morning, contemplating washing my car and yard work a fleeting memory pass through my mind. Suddenly I was 3 years old in our front yard on Ashcroft Street in Houston. I was running through the grass and my next door neighbor Tony was washing his mother's car in their drive way. He stopped and said hi to me and asked if I wanted to "help". He let help for a few minutes, swung me up in the air and pretended he was dropping me and then set down me on the drive way. I told him goodbye and went off to play with dolls. I can't see his face in my memory these days, but I remember his kind spirit. It is the only memory of that sweet, young man who always had a moment for the little girl next door I still have. Not long after that he left for Viet Nam never to return. As we remember the fallen, I hope we remember their families as well. I remember Tony's parents in the years following Tony's death. They were never the same, their only child go...