Each year I try to be mindful of what this weekend means. Time with family, yes. But more, yes?
Some years I do better honoring it...some years I have wished I had done more.
Every year we watch soldiers march in a local parade and tears come to my eyes thinking of their sacrifice. Of what they have seen and felt and lived through. After, many paraders and onlookers walk to the cemetery, listen to taps played on horns and are silent...
While I am not a fan of our nation going to war, I do supprt the folks who choose military life and humbly thank them for their sacrifice. Yet, it wasn't always like this. When I was younger, I was more black and white on the subject....
At 18, I marched in San Luis Obispo with folks protesting the first Gulf War ~ weeks later I joined thousands of others in San Francisco for the same reason. Then, five months later in Tucson AZ , while waiting on the tarmac with a dear friend at the local army base for her brother in law to return home from that very same war, something changed in my thinking about soldiers -
They were humanized.
Watching them greeting their families after months of separation, the love, the devotion - the sacrifice... It changed everything.
Now I walk the line of supporting those who choose to go to the front lines for our country while, at the same time, I also work with organizations who are trying to create a future where that kind of sacrifice will (hopefully) not be an option on the table. Its one small way I feel I can give back to those families and individuals who have sacrificed so much...on both sides...everywhere.
