I have been on Facebook more often this past week. Like so many others, I reconnected with various college, high school and childhood friends through the Facebook medium. My next door neighbor growing up is one of those people. We we ran with different friends in high school, attended different colleges, both moving on with our lives. I have only seen him in person at high school reunions. Still, it has been kind of cool to see the Facebook updates of his life, along with the lives of other acquaintances from the past.
Until this week.
This past week, my childhood friend and neighbor posted something that I have struggled to shake off. The husband of his niece (daughter of his older sister), a United States Marine, lost his legs to an IED in Afghanistan. This Marine made the journey to Walter Reed this week and as I compose this blog, there have been on other updates. But I know that prayers of support for this young Marine's wife, family, transporters, doctors (this list is endless) fill a cup overflowing. And I know that our doctors and therapists at Walter Reed will provide this Marine with world class care and rehabilitation.
I do not know this Marine, his wife, or anything other than his relation to my childhood neighbor. Yet, something says it is not anonymous, and I do not yet understand why so. These young men and women volunteer for duty in our armed forces. Volunteering in a time of conflict, with desire to tour the front lines, is something Lemmy's self preservation brain fails to grasp. Yet, these men and women do volunteer, and continue to volunteer. Because they volunteer, we live our daily stateside lives without fear of attack...there will be no IED encounter on my way to work tomorrow....or yours, or your neighbors.
Saying "thank you for your service" while it is right, just does not seem like enough any more. Frankly, I am not sure what does just yet. Something I will ponder for some time.
Like thousands of other US soldiers, this Marine has given something to our country, our safety, and our way of life, that we can never give back.
Like so many Soldiers and Guardsman that have returned (and unfortunately, continue returning) from Iraq and Afghanistan, this young Marine, now with no legs, stands tall.
Taller than I will ever be able to stand.
