The day was 13, July 1989. It was a hot day, a lazy and humid day. I was barely 5 then, and my brother was 6. My parents had made plans to go swimming with their band mates, my aunt, my brother, and my self. Little did us kids know that would be the last day we would address someone as "Daddy". 

 The place they chose was the sandbar at Broad River, in Union S.C. It was beautiful out there, but the currents were stronger than had been anticipated. Not as many people showed as was planned. My aunt was not there, come to find out later, she had called and asked for my mother to wait on her before going ahead to the river...my mother didn't wait. Only one band member showed, with his girl friend and his two kids.

Everything was great, we were having fun...

 Next thing I hear is, "I'm going out to test the water for the kids"...the voice was my father's. I watched him as he started out to the deeper waters, and then in a flash everything changed. My mother started ushering us kids to her car, it was a station wagon. I remember the other kids saying their daddy was dying...in reality my daddy was about to die.

There were a lot of screams, and frantic running. My mother was trying to keep us from seeing what was going on. I didn't understand that, because he was fine, when I last looked...

My mother almost crashed the car trying to get away from the scene. 

 The next thing I remember is Red. The color red. I presume it was the lights of the ambulance, but it stuck for some reason. A bright red river bank, forever etched into my memory.

 I remember hearing "We had to go two miles down stream to find the BODY"...THAT damaged my psyche. My Daddy was not a body...he was a man. And I was far too young to understand. 

 At the funeral it was surreal, everyone was crying...the casket was open with my Father inside in his military uniform. My uncle had knelt down beside it  and was openly sobbing while hugging my brother and I, and saying how much he loved us both. 
 

 I looked at him and said "My Daddy is asleep in that box, why won't he wake up?"
My fragile little mind could not grasp the concept of a sleep you can never wake from.

 Free Bird blasted from a car stereo in the cemetery. An American Flag as draped over his casket, which  hovered just above the hole it would forever rest in. There were soldiers standing at attention with guns in the air ready to give his farewell salute. That is a sound I will never forget. 

But...

As always life goes on...

 
 For weeks I heard whispers and saw paranoid looks that I just could not understand. I heard that when they pulled my Daddy from that river he had a footprint on his chest in a size 13. I also heard his neck had marks where fingers had been pressed a little too hard and for a little too long...

~ 

 I know the details are locked somewhere inside this dysfunctional mind of mine. 
I ask my self all the time, would I really WANT to remember more than what I already do?

Honestly, I don't know...would you?

~ 

Even I don't know my secrets.