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As a former military wife, service member, and friend to many who have served in all branches of the Armed Forces, Memorial Day has always had a special place in my heart. I have heard and seen firsthand the sacrifices that these men and women and their families have made. Some have cried on my shoulders, celebrated homecomings, battled addictions, struggled with PTSD, sustained life-changing injuries, gone through divorces, lost their lives in the line of duty and some have even taken their own lives. I've lost count of the number of military funerals I've gone to. Even though Memorial Day is a day of remembrance , I aslo have to give a shout out to the men and women (and their families) who have served and are still serving, because while you are still here, still breathing, you too have made incredible sacrifices to protect us and I am truly grateful.
When I came back from each of my tours, and especially when I left the service to come home for good, I found myself being pissed off all the time. Reintegrating back into civilian life was very difficult for me. The world in which I grew up in and the things that use to matter to me have taken on a completely different meaning . I was angry that millions of people knew who Beyonce was, or the kind of shoes the Kardashians were wearing each day, but had no idea what the difference between Veterans Day and Memorial Day is, or even who the current Vice President was. Even today, people still don't have a clue where Fallujah is, and certainly they don't know the names of the Americans who died there that day. I was frustrated with people always complaining about their long work days and not being able to see their families for a whole 8-10 hours a day when I knew that there were people working on a 48 hour shift, only to go back and sleep in a shithole and not see their family for months (if ever again).
Since then, I've learned that I can't expect everyone to be as vigilant as me all the time. I can't get mad at people for not meeting whatever "expectations" I may have in my head, and ultimately, there's no reason for everyone to be as miserable as I was. If people have never served, or known anyone who had, or have never lost anyone in the line of duty, then it's a completely foreign concept to them. They're lucky.
I just visited the final resting place of a soldier, a kid I use to babysit when I was a teenager. He is buried at Fort Snelling Cemetary in St. Paul, MN. He left behind a wife and a beautiful little girl. I can't help but think how incredibly unfair life can be. At 22 years old, he's dead. His life cut short before it even really began...
Anyway, Memorial Day is a very bittersweet day for me, but it makes me remember this: That America is the home of the free...because of the brave. For the people who bitch and moan about America being a shithole and going to hell in a hand basket, STFU. Maybe it is...but try living in a third world country with no clean water, no indoor plumbing, none of your tech gadgets, and let's see how long you survive. You'll be BEGGING to come back here!
