My Father and I.

My father and I started walking down the long, black, shiny wall. As we got closer are steps were slower. We moved with hesitation. My heart began to beat faster, and I felt an ache in the pit of my stomach. My father squeezed my hand as we approached a statue of three men cast in bronze. The Vietnam Veteran's Memorial or "The Wall" lay just beyond, but we found ourselves unable to move. My father stood staring at the statue, afraid to go on.
Between silences, he spoke about the incredible detailed work of the sculpture, such as the towel wrapped around the neck of one of the soldiers, t…