I was standing on my bed, blinded by sweat, my heart racing, confused—knowing not which way to run.
Nearly 25 years had passed since the old dreams stopped. In those, I would awake running through incoming rocket fire, ricocheting tracer rounds, and wiry little men tossing satchel charges and hand grenades, searching for a rifle I couldn’t find.
This one was different. I was in a dry, warm, well lighted room. An out of focus woman was standing behind a podium. People were talking. They were angry, frustrated, asking endless questions. “Is there a contingency plan if the peace negotiations fail?” “You betcha!” “What is the contingency plan?” “Reload!” “Will you ever give us complete answers?” “Does a Mama Grizzly shit in the woods?”
Suddenly, she burst into focus and there on the wall behind her was the seal of the President of the United States. Fully awaken and realizing the potential reality of the nightmare, I fell to my knees, clasped my hands before me, raised my eyes heavenward and thanked Jesus Christ our Lord for blessing America with a President like Barack Obama.