This is how my dad feels. He fought in WWII and survived. He came home, met my mother, got married, had a family, had a great career, has several grandchildren and now lives out his retirement fairly healthy at 87 years old. He doesn't go to veteran's parades, doesn't want his name in veteran's tributes. He doesn't talk about WWII. Maybe once in a while, he'll share something he witnessed, he'll speak of friends he lost. Then he gets wet eyes and falls back into silence, holding on to those memories like precious diamonds that he won't share. They are too valuable to him, I suppose. He doesn't call himself a hero. He tells me the real heros "never came home."
I think he's a hero...
Today, I remember all of his "brothers" who gave the ultimate sacrifice. I remember and pray for their souls. May they all rest in the peace of God.
No comments:
Post a Comment