Normally, come Memorial Day and July 4th and all those other 24 hour windows of opportunity provided to Americans to show their appreciation for their country and their country's heroes, I try to write something long and thoughtful, either dwelling on what the day means to me, or what it should mean to you.
Maybe I'm being lazy, but I don't feel like that today. I'll just give you a homework assignment. Go find a veteran's mother and thank her. The strength and bedrock of this country is found in the women that raise men who appreciate what they have and are willing to fight for it. Go find a mother who raised her son with love and compassion and selflessness, and then selflessly watched him march off to war, with nothing more than a whispered "I love you", only to never see him return.
That's that. Now, moving on. My good friend Dave Folwell sent me this article recently.
He said he was a little worried about sending it, didn't want to give me any ideas or rekindle my strange love affair with Iraq and Afghanistan. The writer is an Army vet of Iraq. It discusses just how addicting war can be. He's right. It really is like a drug, an itch that you need to scratch. No matter the horrors you see or the innocence you lose, regardless of the risk you take, you never feel more alive, you'll never feel closer to God, you'll never feel more LIKE god.
Read it. I couldn't have put it better myself.