There was my Uncle Judd who lost half a lung in World War II. Gail Phillips who had a piece of shrapnel taken out of his leg when he was well into his 80s. He said he asked for it, but the doctor told him it was mush. Bill just up the street who flew many a dogfight. My father-in-law whose memorial flag is framed on the wall behind me as I write.
So many men and women. So many sacrifices. And those sacrifices continue even today. I’m humbled to know that strangers are willing to put themselves in harm’s way for this country. For me.
I have the freedom to worship, work, write, LIVE pretty much as I please thanks to those who laid down their lives. Seems like the least I can do is work hard to be worth it.