“I tried to give you my ring,” he said. “Remember when I gave you that ring?”

“What ring?”

“Oh, I gave you my high school ring when we were kids. But you gave it back to me,” he said all forlorn.

“I did?” I racked my brain but could not remember.

“Yeah, you gave it back. Actually you threw it at me. You threw it right at me as hard as you could. Here! Take this with you, why don’t ya!”

I blushed.

“Yeah, you were pissed at me. Anyway, P, I’m going to give you that ring again if I can find it. I’ve never done anything with it since you threw it at me that day. I didn’t know anything to do with it but give it to you.”

Last night I got my ring back. I also got his dog tags which I wanted very much since they prove he is alive… he survived all this. If not, the little one would be around his toe, I understand this.

He gave his green beret to my son.

::sigh::