Guts and Glory

Guts and Glory

Slowly, deliberately, he pushes his plate of spaghetti aside. His hands steady, he places his napkin on the dinner table. Clearing his throat, it cracks just slightly. “When your mother was first diagnosed”, he starts. I straighten my eyes and ears wide open. In my 25 years, he has never spoken of this before.

“I called your grandfather to tell him the news.”

"Hello, Admiral."
"Hello, is that you, Paul?"
"Yes, sir.”
"What can I do for you?"
"Well, sir, I have some difficult news. Linda is in the hospital."
"I see. What seems to be the trouble?"
"Sir, she is very sick. The doctors say it’s schizophrenia."

"Well, you married her.”

“She’s your problem now."

Click.

"Hello? Is anybody there?"

For the first time in my life, I empathize with my father. I understand that he felt as alone and isolated as I had.

Suddenly, I see them as they really are, not as gods, but as men, each confronted by my mother’s illness, but only one had the courage to stay and face it.