The Lucky Ones

Today, in the US, it is Memorial Day. A day for remembering those who have fallen before us in battle. Growing up, my image of a "veteran" was that of an old man, proud and valued, but old, just the same. Someone from "the old days". I never even thought of them as the young men they were (and yes, young women, too) when they answered their countries call. I was so blissfully ignorant. Not so anymore. As many of you lovely readers know, my own lovely boy -- my baby brother -- answered that call and has been serving in Iraq since last July 4th. He -- this 21 year old at the beginning of his life -- is a veteran. A veteran! The depth and magnitude of this title overwhelm me now. And we -- my family and I, and my dear Jason -- are luckier than so many. I have no grave that needs visiting this day. No wreath to place. He is, at this time, and despite seeing heavy action rather continuously, unharmed. I am so thankful for luck. Thankful for Jason's wary good sense. Thankful for the angels watching over him. Thankful to the universe an all in it, and I am equally thankful to those who were not so lucky, for giving all of themselves, and to their families, as well, for the great sacrifice. I never knew.
And while I sit here, tears in my eyes at their sorrow, they are also tears of fearful joy. we received the best news -- Jason's tour will not be extended until August as previously determined, but he will rather leave Iraqi soil on June 22nd, bound first for Texas and then for home. My baby's coming home.