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    CLJobe
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

David C. McLavic - 22. Chapter 22

The next letter from Carl said he was going to an Army induction and training center in South Carolina. “I will send you my address as soon as I get there.”

I felt a cold breeze, and I shuddered. I was afraid if something happened to Carl, Aunt Martha would be the next to go and I believe that Uncle Carl would not have learned anything. I felt a dread and fear, that last summer would be the last time I would see Carl.

Carl and I wrote each day. We used our code as much as possible. Carl seemed to have adjusted, he didn’t have much choice. For the next several weeks, I watched the mail, responding to every one of Carl’s letters.

At the end of six weeks, Carl had a two-day leave. He said he stayed at camp and slept in, to the disgust of his mates. We continued our contact. I think I must have sent four to five letters every month.

Then I got a letter from Carl saying he was leaving South Carolina. That could only mean one thing, he was being transferred. I started to read the newspaper. I was looking for riots, military actions, and anything that would give me an idea of where Carl would or could be.

School broke for one week at the end of the first semester. Now I would have a woodworking shop. There we would pick a project as a group. The idea was to get to know various common equipment, safety features, and how to operate them safely. I had little interest, my thoughts were with Carl.

The project was a wooden mechanism for holding rolls of paper. The idea one would keep this gadget next to a phone to record important data. I did the best I could but woodworking wasn’t one of my skills.

I had two more weeks of school before Easter break. I received a letter from Jim, Dad asked if I had opened the letter. I told him no, “I’m afraid it is about Carl.”

Dad asked if he could open it, and I agreed. Reading the letter, he looked at me, and I knew. I started to cry, Carl was killed. I was angry at Uncle Carl. If he was near me I would use the switch on him and wouldn’t stop until he stopped breathing. I was angry and hurt, I just lost my best friend, a brother I never had and now will never have again.

I didn’t go to school for several days, you could find me on the rocks. I would sit there, trying to figure out the hows, why’s, did God not protect him. I tried to blame everyone and anything but it all came back to Uncle Carl’s stupidity. Then I would get angry all over again.

Dad went and got Uncle Joe. I was sitting on the rocks when Uncle Joe came to me. “It is said, the heart bleeds for our brothers but the Great Father in the sky heals the heart in time. He fills the emptiness with memories created by love. You will see him again.”

I thought about that for several days and gradually I accepted Carl’s death. But the pain never goes completely away. There are times when something triggers a memory, and Carl is back.

Copyright © 2023 CLJobe; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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So terribly sad and so hard to handle at the age where those friendships and attachments are so powerful. Ironically, before this chapter posted today, I was thinking back to decades ago when I was a sophomore in high school. A dear friend, a little brother by one year to a classmate was killed in a motorcycle accident. I was seeing his face and remembering interacting with him the last I saw him. It was only a day or two before the tragedy of his death that we were out working on a family car. He was a special young man and I was developing stronger feelings for him. He was so friendly with me it’s hard to know if it was just him or if he was developing feelings too. Unfortunately, I never got to find out. Instead I had to watch a dear young teen lowered into the ground, and here I am more than 50 years later missing that young friend with a special smile and a shared interest in cars.

Ironic that this posted today, yet it seems to validate the emotions I feel and that this young man will never forget.

  • Sad 4

While people often say: "Not a day goes by without thinking of them" ('loved' ones taken too soon), it is in the quiet moments where some memories come back stronger than ever. 💔

If Uncle Joe is right (and who says he isn't) , "the heart bleeds for our brothers but the Great Father in the sky heals the heart in time. He fills the emptiness with memories created by love. You will see him again.”

Trust, and Hope.

Thank you @CLJobe for another insightful chapter. 

🫂

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