Thank you

It’s a somber weekend. For me. For many others who served. And especially for the families and friends of those who made the ultimate sacrifice.

I'm not going to lie and pretend I don't enjoy a long weekend with friends and family, because I do. But I would trade it in a heartbeat to have my friends back. Like my good friend Rob Collins, who I last saw when his platoon was switching out with mine in Iraq.

Some veterans carry survivor’s guilt during this weekend, the feeling that maybe it should’ve, or could’ve, been them. It’s heavy. But we need that reminder. We need time set aside to honor those who never came home.

Last week, I flew back from Raleigh and sat next to a man wearing a KIA memorial bracelet. KIA stands for Killed in Action. These bracelets bear the name, rank, and unit of the fallen. I asked him about it. It was his son. An Army Green Beret who lost his life in Afghanistan. He was flying home from a memorial ceremony at Fort Liberty, with his grandson, the fallen soldiers son.

You could see the pain in his eyes. I felt it. The only thing I could muster up, without breaking down myself, was: I’m so sorry. He asked me if I served and told him yes. We shared a quiet moment and then he told me thank you.

Sitting there next to this father, I realized that his pain, and the pain of thousands of other Gold Star families, is something most of us will never fully understand. But we all understand loss in some form. We all know what it means to love someone. Life is fragile. And we so easily forget how much we have.

You never know the last time you’ll carry your child. The last time you’ll speak to your parents. The last time you’ll be with someone you love. Loss of loved ones is inevitable. Grief is universal.

I don’t have a big message here. I’m not an expert on grief. But I am learning how to be grateful.

To the fallen, and to the families they left behind, thank you.

Don't get captured,

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