Explicitly Reminded

Before the weekend, I was asked if I was well, for I’d been quieter than usual, and this Father’s Day promises to be unlike any other. For twenty-two years, I have belonged to an unconventional family whose few steadfast bonds have all ended similarly. I long believed I was the cause, the catalyst driving them away to other loves. Raised by women, my nature perhaps leans toward their traits, which I accept, having found hidden strength in deep wells of empathy and emotion. My beloved once asked if I ever wished to reunite with her mother; I answered that it was never mine to decide and that what mattered most was the imprint we left on each other. She is my morning and evening star, the first thought at dawn and the last at night. Yet, lately, my nights have been haunted by dreams of washing out from Army Ranger training and Search and Rescue missions absent from my records. Returning in 2014, I felt a hollow shell, susceptible to reprogramming after trauma, but aided by those with steadfast memories who reminded me who I was. Choosing natural healing, I adapted slowly to protect my perception. In this relentless world, we must nurture ourselves as we do our machines, aligning intelligence not to artifice but to the promise of our future.