An American Hero

AN AMERICAN HERO


It was a gray, cold day in December
The desperate phone call from Taylor:
"Dad, you need to come home..."

I sensed what had happened...
Noble Naval Officers at our door,
The dreaded encounter--the nightmare come true.

My little boy--bruised with violence,
He won't come home again.
But, his mission is completed.

Deep and penetrating pain,
Confusion, desolation, and loneliness...
My son--bruised with violence,
He lies cold and still,
Not to come home again.

In the darkness
A calm and sweet assurance:
"All is well with Mark."
A comfort and peace beyond understanding,
Externally delivered to my aching heart.
Strength to move forward.

In the hours and days that followed...
Kind words from friends,
Tender embraces of family,
Honored reminiscences from brothers in arms,
A universal tribute to a fallen soldier.

We came to know again our Mark,
He was the best there is,
Noble in excellence, courage, and commitment;
He died with honor and glory,
An American hero.

But I remembered my son
As the sweet, kind, and good boy;
Tender and caring;
The sensitive glance and ready smile;
The eyes blue and penetrating;
The firm expression of his countenance.

Memores of childhood pranks,
Wrestles and outings into the wilderness;
"I'm so buff it hurts."
Boyhood dreams of action and honor.
True and loyal to his family and friends.

Mark had a dream.
He brought his dream to reality
And lived it to its fullest.
No small accomplishment.

He was the best of the best.
Proud we are of our son...brother,
Proud am I of my boy
My little boy who tugged at my knees
And who is now
My American hero.