Many of us know or knew a Vet, a soldier, sailor, marine, our grandparents from WWII, our parents from the Korean Conflict, our brothers or sisters from the war in Viet Nam, our kids from the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. Some of us only see from a distance those dressed in khaki, navy whites, those with air force wings, some carrying duffel bags, wearing dog tags around their necks, insignias of rank on their clothing.
We embraced the fighting men and women returning from Europe and the Pacific after the Second World War, we applauded the men and women home from Korea, we ignored those warriors from Viet Nam, and we silently shudder with disbelief as the many kids returning home from Iraq and Afghanistan, return with physical, and mental trauma not knowing exactly what to say or how to help them heal.
I remember when a Vet was someone at least 20 years older than me. I remember when I was in college and suddenly old friends, childhood acquaintances, high school friends were now Vets, and now I watch or read as people younger than my kids are military men and women, are Vets. Memorial Day, which I once thought was just an old man's holiday, no longer has an age boundary.
I will never understand war and all its ramifications. I will never truly understand the bravery it must take to fight in a war. I will never comprehend when war is just and when it isn't. And I will never know the residue of having served in the military. But I will continue my self journey into recognizing the energy, effort and enthusiasm of those who are a member of the armed services and their motives and motivations for doing so.
On this Memorial Day my thoughts are with those who served, currently serving and the family and friends that surround all of them with love.
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