Christina A. Sharik


Christina, Michael and Tristan
Christina, Michael and Tristan
Army Mom, Army Son, and Army Grandson
The Star hung in the window
proudly telling everyone
that the occupants inside the house
had a Service Son –

Years ago, the Star was whole
not ragged and forlorn –
My father was in China then,
and I had not been born.

The Blue Star never turned to Gold,
he made it home in time;
Not the same man, to be sure,
and now his Star is mine.

Among my father’s treasures
I found the Star, all tattered
along with letters from my mom,
the Star was sadly battered.

My own son is a “Service Son”
and has served far away –
the damaged Star means more to me
than I could ever say.

My father’s death has made me sad,
I wish I had known more
about the man who marched away
and then came home from War.

All I have are photographs
and letters from his past –
No more time for questions –
oh, the things I should have asked.

I couldn’t understand back then;
Now I comprehend much better,
how a mother’s lonely heart can ache
when there isn’t any letter.

Grandmother hung the Star with pride,
it proclaimed a duty done—
A Tattered Star hangs in my home
for my father and my son.