Aug 2016
Brennen
The sound of greedy Blue jays filled the February morning air
The taste of nicotine and coffee linger on my tongue
Today will be a better day
A crisp walk with our Whiskey pup down to the frozen White River and back home as quickly as possible
Going to be a long day, so many appointments in the big city, well for us big
Jumped into the old ford, Springsteen playing, I never minded that.
My only inclination, he says " I'm not feeling quite right" I gave it a thought or two and out the window it went
Appointments at the local VA done
Evening tiptoed in as it always does
Home again, repeat
Walk the dog, run back from the frigid Vermont winter
There was a shift in the energy as I walked back into our house for the last peaceful time
Dinner and a movie kinda night quickly turned into a reluctant journey into town, our one and only local dive bar was the answer, the excuse for what tomorrow had in store
More VA hospital, therapy, exposure therapy, the no good kind for PTSD
A night of playing pool with strangers, drinking to much, listening to a semi overweight bleach blonde bartender slur on about ghosts haunting the bar, a once booming train depot station years an years ago
Closed it up and headed home
Funny the ride was as quiet as ghosts, couldn't even hear breathing, not a sound
Once inside Brennen bolted upstairs, bathroom perhaps?
I shuffled in the kitchen to find something for us to eat at this last hour
I hear the all to familiar sound of metal on metal and the slow walking down the stairs
The dragging sound of the kitchen chair inching close to me, nothing but silence
Then I saw it, his 38 in hand with a single BULLET.
Racing mind, racing mind
what could have derailed this day?
Give me the gun. A fumble to get the bullet into the chamber
Give me the gun. Another fumble to get the bullet into the chamber
Something on any given day would come so easy to my Afghanistan Vet
33 years young
The last words I will ever hear
"It's ok"
Then my biggest regret
"you are not going to do this"
The deepest breath I've ever heard followed by the loudest noise I still can't shake
Red crimson blood in a tidal wave pattern filled the kitchen floor
still breathing
911
sloshing through the ocean of blood
CPR
Rescue Squad, police, first responders
I let go
And soon after
He let go too.
2/24/16
The sound of greedy Blue jays filled the February morning air
The taste of nicotine and coffee linger on my tongue
Today will be a better day
A crisp walk with our Whiskey pup down to the frozen White River and back home as quickly as possible
Going to be a long day, so many appointments in the big city, well for us big
Jumped into the old ford, Springsteen playing, I never minded that.
My only inclination, he says " I'm not feeling quite right" I gave it a thought or two and out the window it went
Appointments at the local VA done
Evening tiptoed in as it always does
Home again, repeat
Walk the dog, run back from the frigid Vermont winter
There was a shift in the energy as I walked back into our house for the last peaceful time
Dinner and a movie kinda night quickly turned into a reluctant journey into town, our one and only local dive bar was the answer, the excuse for what tomorrow had in store
More VA hospital, therapy, exposure therapy, the no good kind for PTSD
A night of playing pool with strangers, drinking to much, listening to a semi overweight bleach blonde bartender slur on about ghosts haunting the bar, a once booming train depot station years an years ago
Closed it up and headed home
Funny the ride was as quiet as ghosts, couldn't even hear breathing, not a sound
Once inside Brennen bolted upstairs, bathroom perhaps?
I shuffled in the kitchen to find something for us to eat at this last hour
I hear the all to familiar sound of metal on metal and the slow walking down the stairs
The dragging sound of the kitchen chair inching close to me, nothing but silence
Then I saw it, his 38 in hand with a single BULLET.
Racing mind, racing mind
what could have derailed this day?
Give me the gun. A fumble to get the bullet into the chamber
Give me the gun. Another fumble to get the bullet into the chamber
Something on any given day would come so easy to my Afghanistan Vet
33 years young
The last words I will ever hear
"It's ok"
Then my biggest regret
"you are not going to do this"
The deepest breath I've ever heard followed by the loudest noise I still can't shake
Red crimson blood in a tidal wave pattern filled the kitchen floor
still breathing
911
sloshing through the ocean of blood
CPR
Rescue Squad, police, first responders
I let go
And soon after
He let go too.
2/24/16
