“They are dead, but they live in each Patriot’s breast, and their names are engraven on honor’s bright crest.” — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

On this Memorial Day, I consider my freedoms and the price that was paid for them.  It somehow silences the busy mind filled with ‘gotta do this’, gotta do that’, ‘she pissed me off’, ‘the clerk overcharged me 20 cents’ and other menial and mundane shit.  Seriously, Ann….are you kidding me?

I was raised Military and married Military.  My father took me up the Okinawan hill he fought on and had me walk through the rations caves filled with ordinance and rations in France.  He showed me where his battle buddies dropped and died.  He told stories about being in the Brig during the Pearl Harbor attack and was handed a weapon when they opened the cell door.  My husbands- yes both of them- talk quietly and sometimes angrily about ‘coming home’ from Vietnam.  The buddies they left behind still live clearly in hearts and minds.  Their lives changed and their pain deep.  A Brother, Uncle, Cousins, Grandparents, all Veterans.

The Men and Women and Families of all Branches serve well and proud.  I am grateful for the ones that made it back.  And grateful for those that did not.  Thank you!