"Sharing can be a way of healing. Grief and loss can isolate,
anger even alienate. Shared with others, emotions unite
as we see we aren't alone. We realize others weep with us."
~Susan Wittig Albert

Through our writing, we walk out of the darkness into the light
together, one small step at a time, recording history, educating
America, and we are healing.
~CJ/Todd Dierdorff

Sunday, July 3, 2011

Douglas S. Kempf

As everyone knows, July 4 is the birthday of our great country. Well, every year around this same time, I can't help but get melancholy, because Doug's birthday was July 12. This year, he would have been 64. (KIA Vietnam, September 5, 1969).

I can't begin to tell you how thankful I am to have a wonderful man in my life who loves me and who understands ... I love you, Robert.

His Name was Doug
by CJ (Kempf) Heck

and I knew he loved me.
Bigger than life, 
he was a man’s man,
so at home in his skin.
His legs bowed just a little
giving him a sexy swagger 
when he walked. 
He was ornery as cat dirt 
most of the time,
non-filtered Camels 
tucked in a pocket, or
rolled in a T-shirt sleeve, 
tanned arm hanging out 
the side window, 
cruising his titty-pink 
& white‘57 Chevy
with me by his side,
and I knew he loved me. 
He could cuss and fight
with the best of them,
a man’s man,
but gentle with me 
running his fingers
through my hair 
while I sat on the floor
between his bowed legs
watching TV
and I knew he loved me.
Uncle Sam needed 
combat medics 
in Vietnam. 
Doug never thought 
to question.
The town sheriff was Dad
and he taught him
you do what’s right.
His name was Doug,
bigger than life,
a man’s man, 
easy in his skin,
ornery but gentle,
and I knew even my name
was safe in his mouth
because he loved me.
Dear God, 
I loved him, too ... 

“I am only one, but I am one. I can't do everything, but I can do something. The something I ought to do, I can do. And by the grace of God, I will.” ~Everett Hale

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