In line, paying for yet another bag of ice*, an elderly gentleman approaches my husband.
"Did you serve?" he trembles.
"Yes." says Patrick.
"When did you get back?"
"About 20 years ago." my very young-looking husband smiled.
"Oh! Well, thank you. Thank you so much for your service!" the man replies.
"Absolutely, sir. You're welcome."
I was at a loss. Nobody ever approaches ME and assumes that I was in the military! I commented on how random that was.
"It's the haircut," Pat explained. "It happens to me all the time."
And that? That memory was the sweetest one of all of Memorial Day for me. People who go out of their way to remember and recognize the countless sacrifices that our daily freedom has required. I fear that I didn't do a good enough job acknowledging the day, myself. I was so concerned with not passing out from heat exhaustion or sun poisoning, that I only allowed myself a brief moment to pause and remember.
And now, in the artificially cooled air of my safe home in a civilized neighborhood, I gaze around at my blessings and say THANK YOU. Thank you to the people who are not only currently serving their country, but also all of the men and women who have died for America, for freedom... For every parent of a military person who has ever had to mourn the loss of their child. For every child who has had to mourn the passing of their parent. For hundreds of years of sacrificing oneself for the good of the All. For all of the pain that millions and millions and millions of those who were left behind and for all of the joy that those who had to leave missed out on...
|He still gets carded at times. Drives me crazy...|
*Seriously? Between the old fridge dying and 94 degree heat all weekend, I do believe we have personally kept the ice industry in business for all of May. All of you readers in the Arctic circle? You're welcome.