There are still times when I wish I had a different story to tell. There are still times when I dream of the childhood I wished I had, and times when I look at pictures of my father in Vietnam and want to warn him, "Go to Canada, Delmer. Don't go to Vietnam. You will never be the same. You'll hurt your wife and daughter. You won't mean to, but you will."
More and more these days, though, I accept the life I was given, and find solace in helping others tell their truths by sharing mine. It seems like the only thing to do -- the right thing to do -- and something that will continue to set me free. I will no longer be silent. This I know.
The healing goes on.