shoulders

This is not the post I'd planned to write today. But sometimes there is a plan greater than mine and I must put it aside, if only for a while.

Great grandpa twice a POW in a northern hell, consigned to a life of pain from battle injuries, but it was still a life, and one to be cherished; he held no recriminations but praised the South and its people the rest of his days.

An Uncle toured England and France, seeing the sights from a gun turret during WWII while the bombs fell around him; came home to raise a family and suffer private demons that eventually drove him to his grave.

A cousin who won't talk about his time in Korea, but does speak now and then of a cold so pervasive no amount of blankets can ever warm the memories.

Two brothers who joined, one branch each, because it was the right thing to do.

A son who spent his formative years being a military brat, and is now only a few months short of retirement from his own Army career; lost a wife and a girlfriend somewhere along the way, but still dons his boots and saddles up in answer to the call.

A husband who has worn the uniform of more than one branch of service, patrolled foreign shores, sailed angry seas, and is now facing yet another deployment.

My own service seems miniscule in comparison. Yet I raise my flag each day with pride, for it IS my flag. I stand on the shoulders of these giants. The proud, the few. We happy few. This band of brothers, uncles, cousins, sisters, parents, husbands, sons both adopted and by blood, countless neighbors, cherished friends. I salute them one and all.

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