At Least They're Committed

How could something so important be so painful? My brother gave me the DVDs that rerecorded all the reel-to-reel tapes we sent to and received from Uncle Dee when he was in Vietnam. They talk about my unborn brother in anticipation. He died. I hear my beloved uncle as the boy I remember — not much older than my youngest — describing what it’s like there, you can hear the helicopters in the background, this young man trying not to complain. I hear the innocent Little Girl that I was (Aunt Cindy said I should have done voice overs for Disney), I hear my grandpa . . . . I hear my grandpa. I miss my grandpa. I’ve only gotten through one of four DVDs.  These DVDs are one of my greatest treasures. My sons are riveted and that brings me joy. But the heartache . . . holy shit.