I was reading jokes and I came across one that my dad told me a long time ago.
Two Gays are standing on a bridge watching ships pass by underneath them.
One says to the other..."What kind of ship is that?" "Container ship."
"OK, what's that one over there?" "Oil Tanker."
"How about that one?" "That's a ferry boat."
"Really? I knew we were strong, but I never knew we had our own NAVY!"
I have made a decision. It is something that I've been putting off for almost 10 years. I have decided to make a trip up to Santa Barbara and visit the place where my father is buried. I have thought about doing this before, but "something" always conveniently came up. I'm extremely nervous about going. Visiting his grave will signify that he is truly gone. I'm thinking about going on November 3. That was the day that he was shot and it will be 10 years from his death. It will also allow me enough time to muster up the courage necessary I need to follow through. I also have no idea where he is buried and need to find out from relatives.
I'm sorry if this sounds like I'm rambling. My thoughts are all jumbled up. I didn't realize how much this would affect me making this decision.
I wanted to share this decision with my friends. This is perhaps the most frightening thing that I have decided to do besides going into the Navy. I'm experiencing the same nervousness and butterflies in my stomach that I experienced going into the Navy. I survived my first day in the Navy, where my butterflies were replaced with something else. I know I will get through this as well.
I believe that this is the last major hurdle that I haven't attempted to leap. I plan on writing a letter to my father that I intend to read while I'm there. I know that it makes no difference where I read the letter because he is no longer with his body. And since he was cremated, there isn't even a body. But seeing his marker is the symbol I need to make his death a reality.