Wednesday, Nov. 11, 2009

Not only sorry, but also grateful

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry you had to witness what you witnessed, had to do what you did.

I'm sorry that you found yourselves in Iraq and Afghanistan and Korea and Vietnam and two world wars and so many others on orders from above.

I'm sorry that we once called you baby killers.

I'm sorry you had to watch buddies die in your arms or watch their bodies ripped apart by unseen landmines or whistling, incoming rockets and grenades.

I'm sorry those nightmares followed you home and won't ever leave you.

I'm sorry it changed you in ways the rest of us won't ever understand.

I'm sorry it strained and twisted and pulled apart your families; strained, twisted and tugged at your faith.

I'm sorry that we don't acknowledge enough the sacrifices and look away when the flag-draped coffins slowly roll out of the back of those airplanes or ignore the limbless or mentally-ravished men and women alone on cold, hard streets or in Walter Reed.

I'm sorry that you are worn down and tired and scarred.

I'm sorry that a mother in Conway is still crying and another in Georgetown is still grieving and another in Garden City Beach is still coming to grips with her loss and another in Myrtle Beach is still wondering about what's going on over there, a place where triple-digit weather is the norm, fists full of sand in the face is common and IEDs seemingly lurk around every corner.

I'm sorry that there are others who have been left to wonder when their loved ones will return, if they will return, and are afraid of who they'll be when they get back.

I'm sorry for those who are privately praying they don't become one of the tens of thousands who have to go back to finish a messier than ever job in Afghanistan while standing brave publicly, knowing if their name is called they'll serve proudly any way, again.

I'm sorry we couldn't identify sooner an enemy in your midst at Fort Hood or adequately recognize your psychic pain.

I'm sorry we haven't figured out a way better than war.

But I'm grateful that you have made us proud, served with honor.

I'm grateful that you have saved and freed billions and continue to do so even when we forget, even when we get caught up in petty divisions and empty debates even as your sacrifice affords us the opportunities to be as shallow or contemplative as we'd like.

I'm grateful that you are braver than the rest of us, tougher than the rest of us.

I'm grateful that your lives, your sacrifices mean more than you'll ever realize, than we'll ever know.

I'm grateful that I get to call myself one of your fellow Americans.

I'm grateful that you are there. And always have been. And always will be.