Marilyn?” I gestured to my wife, and she stood up and came over, and opened this gigantic purse she had. “Folks, this is my wife, Marilyn. Now, to...be honest, she earned this even more than I did, because while I was deployed overseas, she was back home in Fayetteville having our son. Anyway, she had this plaque made up for me. We’ll pass it around for you to look at. The photo is from my retirement parade. You’ve seen my cane; it was from my last jump when I earned that. Back then I was known. ..tell them.... that I still loved them." Okay that sets me off.I am now crying as well. We are holding each other's hands, but that'snot enough."Mother I think you need a hug." She nods. We both step out of the car,and hug for a while, in an empty parking lot, with cars occasionallywhizzing by. Mother, being mother, wheels in her emotions and we getback into the car.She looks at me. "I've got Francica overseas in Italy, Abigail swimmingin a sea of hormones, angry at everything and. More

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