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Memorial Day
Hello, my brother.
We never met, but I know you. I could be like you, but for the chance of grace or the grace of chance. Instead, I stand here on this side of that long black wall, while you are on the other. From that place that joined us, the place made us brothers, I returned in the Freedom Bird, and you returned in a flag-draped box. But we are brothers. Now I stand here, my fingers tracing the engraved letters that you share with far too many. I wonder if you feel that touch and if you know what I feel from it. The pride, the honor and the satisfaction of serving, of pledging all that I am or will be; those things and more reflect back at me from that burnished stone. The awe of what we knew, of what we saw, of what we tried to accomplish; those things reflect from me – I hope – to those who will follow us. I come here not to weep, although I do so freely. I come here not to remember, although I do so all too freely. I come here not with bitterness or anger or even sadness. I come here…simply to be with you once again. I come to say the things that were never said to us when we needed to hear them. A million million words would not be enough to repair the hurt we felt at not nearing those things. And so, my brother, I come here with only two. Thank you.
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Freedom of the Press Does NOT mean the right to lie! Visit me at my Reloading Room webpage! Get signed copies of my Vietnam novels at "Baggy Zero Four" "Mike Five Eight" |
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