bagpipers playing ceremonial tunes
color guards
sincere thanks
sacrifice recognized
the anthems of each branch of the armed services
seeing others tear up
watching an F-16 fly over
watching a Marine in dress blues bestow a medal on a fellow Marine in camouflage who has lost both hands and part of his forearms
seeing the same two Marines hug
seeing the MC and presenter "shake hands" with the man with no hands without missing a beat--not so much as a flicker of the eyelid
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5 comments:
Wow. Felt it in my chest.
Your list made me cry. I could see it, feel it, hear it.
This Veteran's day I honored my dad with food. He ate canned "rations" while "in the field" training, while at war (WWII) in the South Pacific, while in Korea (twice), while in Vietnam. So when home, he liked to eat well. On payday, my Mom would fix steak, potatoes, simple green salad, and occasionally coconut cream pie (my Dad's favorite). Vet's day this year we ate my Dad's meal and I cried into my coconut cream pie.
I remembered going to Parade every Friday when I was a girl at Ft. Campbell, KY. I'd put my hand over my heart as we watched the troops pass in review, 100's of young men, earnest and scrubbed and trimmed and shiny, my father leading the most recent graduates from boot camp. "Yes sir, Sargeant Major, sir!" we'd hear them shout in unison as he asked them questions like "Are you ready to defend your country?" or "Do you pledge your life to freedom?" Post-graduation ceremony, after the band had played and the General had declared all these men now "fit to serve", we'd all mosey over to the large army tent for coffee and cake. This was during the height of the Vietnam war. These memories are etched in my mind. I was only 10, 11, and 12, so there was much I didn't understand about what was happening. I remember being both afraid of and proud of my Dad in his impeccable uniform, with his commanding presence. He must be very important, I remember thinking, since he's leading all these men. They seemed afraid of him a bit too, and always acted respectfully toward him, my Mom, my sister and me.
My heart is full.
Sincere thanks is a killer.
You all made me cry. But it is a happy cry for these things. Thanks.
Thank you for sharing this. Thank you to Mary for sharing the story of her dad and mom.
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