Memorial Day 2010

So, I've just gotten home after leaving work early to start the long weekend, cracked open that first cold beer of the four-day holiday, and I've caught myself thinking about Memorial Day, what it means to me, and what it should mean to everyone else. I don't intend to go off on what many believe (myself included) as the commercialization of a once solemn day of remembrance, but rather to reflect on nearly nine years of service to our nation and the many young men and women that have gone too early making the ultimate sacrifice for freedom. In the midst of trips to the beach or lake, backyard barbecues, massive shopping excursions, and relaxation, I hope that everyone will pause, even if for a moment, to remember why this day comes around every May. Our nation has suffered many years of conflict to maintain the level of freedom she enjoys this day, and we are still in the clutches of combat operations on multiple fronts to ensure that remains. This comes at a cost, a cost of time away from loved ones, of days, weeks, years in austere environments where every turn comes in peril and a warm meal and hot shower are more valuable than gold. The cost is going away wide-eyed and innocent, and coming home darkened and aged beyond your years. The cost many times is leaving a marriage and coming home to an empty house and a letter on the door. The cost is losing friends, brothers, sisters to a bomb buried under a roadway. The cost is leading a group of America's sons and daughters on a trip that you can't guarantee they'll return from, and having to live with knowing that fact. The cost is the blood, sweat, tears, and lives that less than one percent of the population will stand up, raise their right hand, and say they'll solemnly swear to pay.

When friends, family, former co-workers ask me why I volunteered and fought so hard to return to military service, it's hard to verbalize an answer. For so long I spent time hot, cold, tired, sleepless, scared, hungry, or confused for a job while others I knew went to white-collar jobs with six-figure salaries in plush office buildings. I thought that was the life I wanted, but it didn't seem to be for me. I'd rather spend a month in the field training, living on coffee and MREs than spend one more day in the back-biting rat race of corporate America. And if, God forbid, that the day comes I have to once more kiss my wife, and now my daughter too, farewell to fly around the world to fight for this great nation again, I will again do it with pride and in honor of so many that have made that trip only to not get the chance to return to those they love. Remember them, honor them, salute them, this Memorial Day. God bless us, and God bless America.