Last year I lost my Grandpa. Though shrouded in a bit of mystery Grandpa served through three wars, WWII, Korea and Vietnam. He was a SeaBee a tradition that my brother carried on serving 5 years in the same role. Both of my husband’s parents served in the Army, Papa did two tours in Vietnam. My husband is a soldier two deployments, my brother-in-law is also a soldier, having served in Kosovo and Iraq and now in Italy. When this day comes around we try to not get so caught up with the BBQ, and free post activities to forget why we have set this day aside.
To remember those lost to us fighting for our freedoms, for the freedom of others. Men and women who won’t come home to their families. We remember the families, those who live everyday as a memorial. The wives and husbands, the mothers and fathers, the children, those left behind. On Thursday my husband took my oldest to a memorial to remember the soldiers lost in our last deployment, to listen to the names read and watch the bricks placed. To take a moment to pray to remember, and then to step back into day to day living. Hopefully hugging the kids a bit closer, cherishing the moments, knowing how blessed we are to have our soldier home this year and for the sake of those lost, we live.