Memorial Day

It's always hard to be without my army family on days like this. I miss the wives, taking care of the kids while the boys remembered the fallen. The girls did too, but it was different for them. We weren't there. We didn't walk beside men that wouldn't come home. We stayed behind, to grieve the loss of such men. I watched my neighbors enjoying a cookout in our court yesterday and it made me angry. Do they know? Do they even care? It's not fair that I singled them out, but did they take a minute to be grateful? I watched a woman become a widow and bury her whole world. I visited cemetery after cemetery in Europe. I sent a husband off to war three times, each time knowing there was a chance he wouldn't come back. My sacrifice pales in comparison to theirs. But I'm thankful every day to the "greatest generation" that died for my freedoms. The men that survived prisoner camps and torture to win a war against tyranny. I'm thankful for men like my husband that fought against terrorism. And to those who still carry the deep wounds of war that will never heal.