Boy Sees Dad Sleeping on Street in Dirty Clothes, ‘But Mom Said You’re in the Army!’ – Story of the Day

Ryan decided to get ice cream after school and walked to town, but he stopped after seeing a man sleeping on a bench. It was his father, who was supposed to be in the army. But when the 12-year-old woke the man up, he was shocked by his words, and what he learned later was even worse.

It was still bright and scorching when Ryan left for school. Summer was supposed to be over by the time school started again, but these few early days of the new school year were hot. So, that Thursday, he had a craving for ice cream.

Usually, he walked briskly back home after classes were over to seek refuge in his home’s air conditioning. An ice cream may help. Also, it had been a while since he had gone toward town, so this was his chance.

It wasn’t that far off his path, and he thought about calling his mother for a second to see if she wanted something from the grocery store but decided against it. It was better not to tell anyone so he could enjoy his ice cream in peace.

Ryan walked, watching more people and cars as he reached their small but still somewhat crowded town. He could already see the ice cream parlor sign, so his steps quickened. But as he walked near the small park, he saw a man sleeping on a bench. He frowned. Their town didn’t have many homeless people, or perhaps the 12-year-old had been too sheltered from his mother to see a lot of them.

But something about that man made him stop for a second. It was the man’s shirt. Ryan realized he recognized that shirt. He had seen it before, on the portrait that sat on his bedside table. It was a simple but dirty t-shirt that read “U.S. ARMY.” Ryan knew there were probably thousands like it.

However, the one he recognized belonged to his father, Eric, whom he hadn’t seen in many years because he was an active soldier or perhaps had risen in the ranks. He didn’t know. His mother, Amalia, told him she and his father divorced because he was too focused on his military career.

Growing up, Ryan wanted to contact him, but she kept telling him it was impossible. He was in a remote zone and couldn’t answer phone or video calls.

“Your father is not much of a reader or a letter writer,” Amalia told him a few years ago when Ryan wanted to write a letter. “I don’t think he’ll read it at all.”

The 12-year-old was hurt, but after some time, he realized it wasn’t his job to contact his father. He was the adult. Eric had to reach out first; if he hadn’t, it was probably because he didn’t want to. That was more painful, but Ryan tried not to focus on that.

He still saw his father’s portrait and sometimes talked to it, sharing his worries and asking him for guidance. Obviously, there was no answer, but it comforted him.

The boy stared at the man on the bench and shook his head. Tons of people in the country had the same t-shirt, so Ryan told himself to keep walking. But his feet wouldn’t budge. Instead, they made him walk closer to the man.

Slowly, his eyes noted the face, which was gaunt and covered with a thick, unkempt beard. His hair was greasy, and there were dark bags under his eyes. The man’s arms wrapped around his body protectively as he snored quietly on that uncomfortable park bench.

“Sir,” Ryan said quietly. Something in his gut told him to wake the man up.

But the sleeping homeless man grumbled and kept snoring. The kid touched his shoulder and shook him. “Wake up,” he said.

Finally, the man’s eyes opened in surprise, and Ryan finally understood why his instincts had compelled him to come closer. “Dad?” the boy asked, still quiet but shocked.

“Hmm?” the man, squinting his eyes. “Who are you?”

“It’s me, Ryan,” he answered.

“Your son.”

The man’s eyes widened as he stared at the 12-year-old up and down. “Ryan! Oh my God! Look at you! So grown up and so tall!”

“Yeah, that’s what happens to kids after eight years,” Ryan retorted, a little bitter but not too hateful. “But Mom said you’re in the army. What are you doing here?”

His father sighed. “Oh, kid,” he lamented.

He wrinkled his nose. “I’m not a kid,” Ryan grumbled. “What are you doing sleeping on a bench like a homeless person? Why aren’t you overseas?”

“I’m sorry. You’re right. You’re not the child I saw last time,” Eric nodded, hanging his head in shame. “But son, I haven’t been in the army for years.”

“Then, why didn’t you reach out or send a letter…” Ryan swallowed and trailed off, unsure if he could hold back his emotions.

“Your mother didn’t allow it,” Eric said. “Son, my time in the army…well, it changed everything. I returned home a terribly different man. I didn’t recognize myself anymore. Your mother kicked me out, got sole custody of you, and told me to stay away until I could be a real father.”

Ryan shook his head, confused. “I don’t understand.”

“I was not good. I couldn’t be around people,” his father continued. “The VA doctors said things like PTSD, ASD, and other acronyms I can’t remember. They gave me some things, and I had some therapy. But it wasn’t enough. All that help was… well, liquor.”

Ryan gave up the fight against his tears and cried. Eric reached out hesitantly to pat his shoulder. “But why did my mom lie?” he sniffled, sitting on the bench beside his father.

“I don’t know,” Eric sighed. “She probably wanted you to feel proud of me and not realize I’m just a drunk, not a hero.”

“That’s not fair!” Ryan exclaimed. “You went through something! She should’ve helped!”

“Don’t be angry at her,” Eric shook his head. “I didn’t want help from anyone.”

“What about now?” Ryan asked. “Will you accept help now?”

His father looked down. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“We can figure it out,” Ryan insisted. “As soon as my mom explains why she lied to me like this.”

Eric laughed softly. “She’s gonna be mad.”

“Whatever,” Ryan said, laughing a bit as he wiped a few tears. “Come on, Dad.”

Ryan grabbed his father’s arm and helped him up. They walked to his house, and Amalia’s shocked and angry face greeted them. After some back and forth, she allowed Eric to get cleaned up inside.

Ryan was just as mad at her for the lie, so they sat at the kitchen table for a deep conversation about what happened. Amalia’s uncle had been a drunk who hurt the whole family. So when Eric took to alcohol, she got scared, kicked him out, and kept Ryan in the dark to protect him.

“Well, I’m clean,” Eric said after showering.

Amalia and Ryan were still sitting on the kitchen table. “OK, where to start,” Amalia commented, tapping her nails against the wood. “I think we should call my family. It’s time to tell them the truth.”

“You lied to Grandpa and Grandma, too?” Ryan asked, shocked.

His mother shrugged and smiled guiltily.

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If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a little boy who asked a military stranger to give a pie to his father and received a box the next day.

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