Agent Orange Second Generation Victim - Heather A. Bowser
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Fourteen Years of Remembering
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Fourteen Years of Remembering




MARCH 11, 2012,

Dear Dad,
   Fourteen years and counting, fourteen years of missing, fourteen years of living, fourteen years of remembering, and fourteen years of forgetting. Where are you? Can you see me? If I try really hard I can see your smile. I can hear your voice, your laugh...
   
   What is it like there? Are you asleep? Can you reach out? Answer me please. I call out to you at times. You are my Father, a girl needs her Father, Damn it. “A GIRL NEEDS HER FATHER! “ Why did you leave? Where did you go? Am I supposed to believe you floated away to a place in the sky? Am I supposed to believe you’ve come back as a house cat, or a frog, or a pigeon? I know what I’ve been told all this time, I just want to know what you know. Feel free to tell me at anytime.

   After fourteen years, do you remember me? Do you remember to think of me? Can you watch from where you are? Do you see my heart? Do you know the pain I feel? The hole is still here, no one can fill it, ever. I’ve tried to move on, but I fall into the hole when I least expect it, and there I am, missing you again. Where are you Dad?

   In my being, I have come to accept many things. I have to live, live for real, live full tilt, because I don’t know when it will be over and I will leave a hole in my family. I have to let go and not hold on, because the things I thought would always be permanent, just crumble away.  Why did you have to go? Good guys never win. That’s only in movies.

   Fourteen years of fighting the Veterans Administration. Good guys, NEVER, win Dad. They took you away with their lies and cover-ups. They allowed you die. They left you behind. They turned their back. They turn their back on me too. On all of the Guy’s kids, Dad, they still do not care. Some things never change.  They are allowing us to die, they are leaving us behind. Not all of them are as strong as me, many have died already. I NEED YOU TO FIGHT FOR US DAD, but you are not here. Where are you? Why did they make you go away?

   There are times I see you in my sons, their passions mirror your passions. I see you in my relationships. I see you in the opportunities I have had. I see you in the choices I’ve made. I see you in my bravery. I see you in my fears. I see you in my anxiety. I see you in photographs and in my own aging face. I see you in my humor and my mind’s eye. You are everywhere, but nowhere… I listen for your laugh.

Your Loving Daughter,
Heather Anne

William A. “Bill” Morris
July 16, 1947- March, 11, 1998


Mom. My Brother, and Dad
Mom, My Brother , and Dad
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