Flags of Our Fathers
I just saw the movie by Clint Eastwood about the men who fought on Iwo Jima in WW2 and the story behind the iconographic photo of the flag raising atop Mt. Suribachi. It's a powerful movie that pulls back the curtain on the realities of war and it's toll on the young people who die or who return with deamons that never go away. It holds up to the light the propaganda campaigns that are waged in all wars to maintain the moral and financial support of the citizenry. And like Saving Pvt. Ryan, it portrays the world of my generation's parents, their quiet sacrafice, naiveness, and scars.
In the final scene, the main character, now an elderly guy on his hospital death bed apologizes to his son for not having been a better dad. The son responds, "you were the best a son could have ever wanted". All the details of this scene right down to the pattern on the hospital smock reminded me of the the last few days with Dad. The way he faded in and out of consciousness. The way the son emerges from the room just minutes from the father's passing.
Well, I was a mess. And it only got worse as I exited the theater and saw silver-haired men, standing about and I so missed you, Dad. I wanted to tell you, thank you, just have your company again.
In the final scene, the main character, now an elderly guy on his hospital death bed apologizes to his son for not having been a better dad. The son responds, "you were the best a son could have ever wanted". All the details of this scene right down to the pattern on the hospital smock reminded me of the the last few days with Dad. The way he faded in and out of consciousness. The way the son emerges from the room just minutes from the father's passing.
Well, I was a mess. And it only got worse as I exited the theater and saw silver-haired men, standing about and I so missed you, Dad. I wanted to tell you, thank you, just have your company again.
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