Dear Pop,

Oh, how I wish I could talk with you! That free-flowing, uninhibited talk we would have on the phone or over a couple of beers when I would visit. You were always there to help me figure out the answers. Always there to listen, calmly guiding me toward the answer to my problems.

Well, Pop, I'm in a situation that could benefit from your experience. Having been in Vietnam with a wife and child at home, you would be able to understand my questions. Questions you probably had. Like: How do I steel myself against the uncertainty that each day brings? How do I ensure that, when I fall asleep, sweet dreams of my loving wife await me instead of the conflict raging around me? How do I fill the hole in my heart caused by not being there to watch my son grow and experience the wonders of life? How do I pass to my son the values of honor and selfless service you gave me?

I know you would help me answer these questions if you could, but I guess I'm on my own. I miss you like I know my son misses me, and that makes each day even harder. Oh, how I wish I could talk with you.

Your loving son,
Clark