Thursday, October 30, 2008
My youngest brother is, as I type, going back to war. It's the third time he's left the safety of our land to head east, to do the job he is sworn to do regardless of the danger to his body or, perhaps more importantly, to his soul. Last time it was to Iraq. This time it is to Afghanistan. The risks seem to be greater with each assignment. He is smart and brave and knows it is better to fight the enemy through kindness, wit, friendship, and tea than with firearms, hatred, and fear. I hope his men follow his lead. They would be wise to do so, and then, he too would be safer.
We who love him must again hold our breath tightly in chests, keeping him safe with whispered prayers and silent tears. We'll busy ourselves, like we did last time, with the holidays and care packages and "Danny Club" dinners. But mostly, we'll pray. Fervently, ardently, we'll pray.
We lost one amongst us. For many reasons, she couldn't do it again and had to leave. She's missed. Sorely. An empty hole where once stood a sister. Alas, however, it is for the best. Patriots are a hard lot to live with and most people haven't the courage to continue standing. You see, patriotism isn't that intense feeling you get when you hear the Star Spangled Banner or see our flag waving proudly over Arlington National Cemetary. That feeling is pride. Patriotism is something wholly more profound and challenging.
Patriotism is the love of country over self, a willingness to sacrifice personally for the benefit of the state. Patriots don't put magnetic yellow ribbons on their cars and call it a day. They don't think sending cookies and used magazines to the troops is well enough. They don't wrap themselves in the flag or the American Legion and then insist that military duty is optional or, at best, falls somewhere after social obligations. True patriots don't gussy up for the military ball and then refuse to ship out. They don't disparage their fellow Americans for their religion or their dress or their language, either.
Patriots live within their means, refusing to contribute to our national economic hardships through their personal deficits. Patriots take government jobs for less pay than private sector jobs. They work unending hours to make our democracy work. They run for public office knowing far too well that not only will their reputation be dragged through the mud, but the reputations of their spouses, parents, and sadly, even their children. Patriots give money to the poor and don't begrudge the IRS. They vote for property tax increases to better our schools.
And patriots go off to war. In far away lands. They put that sworn duty above all else. All else. Above money, home, education, family, even God. Some fight. Some die. Some come home broken. Some are hardly home at all. But they all have a club, a Danny Club, who join their hands, weeping and hoping, praying and holding breath, till the day they come home.
And so we stand, till he does come home. We stand together. And we wait. And pray.
4 Comments:
And you say you're not a writer? That was beautiful.
That is beautiful. I so miss him already. I am glad that I was able to get the last phone call before the flight and the "I love you mom". The first Danny club is on Nov 14. We will call you from the restaurant.
As someone who has kept that vigil, I stand beside you and yours in thoughts and prayer.
so glad we started the Danny Club.. just being together somehow gives us something to look forward to each month. *sigh*
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