1968

Chapter Thirty-Six: March 1st, 1969

Lorelei's point of view:

How does someone just walk into your life that you thought was dead? This was odd, it didn't happen to people. It happened to me about a week ago, and now my grandmother was here to stay. At first, my reservations about her were made clear. I wasn't upset that she was around, but it was so strange that I felt this horrible feeling in my stomach when I thought about it. I had gotten better about it since it happened, after taking a few days to collect my thoughts and figure out how to be. But I was still afraid of what this could do to my family

I especially thought this was about my grandfather. She was his wife and he had no idea that she was even alive. She had given herself away to the mob for his protection, but was he really going to understand that when the initial shock was rapping on his door of mentality? My grandfather was a kind and comprehending man, but he hasn't gone through this. He never had to find his wife he thought he lost decades ago was in fact, still alive and well.

Since then, not much else had happened. We went and saw my father yesterday, just to see how he was doing. His leg was healing progressively but we knew he would need a lot of time to fully rehabilitate. He was still depressed about his leg, knowing fully well that there was no more fighting in the army for him. When we went to see him, we found his staring out the window beside his hospital bed with a melancholy expression. He was totally devastated that he didn't have a job.

For him, it wasn't a financial thing. The army was all he knew, the only job he ever loved. It was the reason he met my mother and now it was gone. The army had done a lot for him, given him friends and allowed him to make a name for himself. Although the army was dangerous and each day he fought was under the threat of death, he still had an affection for it. It showed in his face that he was completely heartbroken. My mother tried to make him feel better as best as she could, and I made attempts as well, but there was no pushing him back.

Today, we would be going back to have him meet my grandmother. My mother explained to him yesterday what had happened to her and why she was with us. He reacted, not negatively, but he was definitely surprised. This took him away from the sadness from his loss of limb, but only temporarily. After the shock was over, he was back to being sullen. All I could do was sit there and hope he wouldn't be like this for the rest of his life.

The ride there was silent, Mihn holding my hand as we watched the car whiz by the trees and fields. Ever so often we would see a farmer working his way along his crops. Sometimes we would see young teenagers riding their bikes home, but that was about it. There was not much to Vietnam when it was torn with war. People mostly stayed home if they could. No one wanted to end up on the sticky side of the stick and run into someone they wouldn't like. It landed you in places with horrors someone could barely dream of. I considered them to be more like nightmares.

We found our way back to the military hospital and directed my grandmother to my father's hospital room. We turned the curtain back and all of us entered at the same time. My father was still looking out the window when we came in. Sometimes it scared me when I saw him looking like that, it was almost like he was dying of a broken heart.

"Hello, Jack, there's someone I want you to meet," my mother said to him as she held the hand of my grandmother. I remained next to Mihn the whole time. Lately, I didn't want to leave his side for anything.

My father turned his head and stared at my grandmother. She went up to him at his bedside, breathing shakily as she saw him for the first time. This was the husband of her daughter. When she looked at him, it made me wonder what would happen when she met uncle Karl back in Germany. Did she even know my aunt Carina was married?

"You're Hilda's mother?" My father asked with a husky voice. Even though he had been in the hospital for a while, his voice was still scratchy. It was most likely because he was always exhausted now and definitely depressed. We all genuinely despised seeing him like this, and I knew we all wished we could do more than just watch it happen.