I gave J this print years ago and it hangs in his home office. I love this print.
I will never forget the first time we went to see the memorial. When you reach the middle it seems as if you are surrounded by all those names. So many names, so many husbands, fathers, sons, brothers,friends. I remember so vividly that year and a half that J was in Vietnam. Hoping for letters, fearing what the letters might say. J sent me tapes that he made, I still have them, it is so amazing to hear his quiet voice talking to me and hearing sounds of fire fights in the background.
I still have all the letters and tapes he sent me. From time to time I take them our and try to read the letters and listen to the tapes. But so far I have not been able to do it.
The sweet boy that wrote and spoke those words didn't come home to me. The man who came home was still my loving husband, but he had rougher edges, he had hardened in ways that slowly revealed themselves to me.
He has never talked a lot about his experiences during his tour, but every once and a while he will open up and share something with me and it helps me understand how and why this hardening of his spirit happened.
My heart bleeds for all the young men and women who are coming home on a daily basis from our current wars.
I think that for the most part people have forgotten that we are in the middle of a war and that everyday these young people are coming home, changed, hardened, never to be the same.
We need to be ever mindful of them and their families and continually lift them up in prayer.
Thank you to those who have served, those who are serving and those who have paid the ultimate price for our freedom.
Thank you to the families of those who served, those who are serving and those who have paid the ultimate price for our freedom.
“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” – Mark Twain