Today we are loading up a PODS container and beginning to see all the boxes appearing, dust coming off of things that haven’t been moved in forever and cabinets opened to groans — “WHY did we keep all this crap this whole time???” But while we’re going through the motions of another PCS, in the back of our minds, we’re also thinking about those we’ve known who won’t have the privilege of suffering through another crappy moving experience. Because while it certainly sucks — it is a PLEASURE. You know why? Because The Major has always come back. Every time they’ve sent him somewhere crappy. Every time I didn’t get to hear from him for weeks because he was forward deployed. Every time I have been so worried… he has come home. And that isn’t always the case.
We are part of an aviation community. And while accidents happen in all arms of the services, here at home and in theater, when they happen in airplanes and helicopters, people don’t tend to survive. And we hear news regularly about accidents here at home that happen on what those families thought were just regular old workdays and school days. And I don’t forget that. When I send my kids off to school and The Major leaves in his flight suit and kisses me goodbye as he heads out the door to an early brief, I don’t forget what he’s out there doing. I have tried, but when you live near an airbase, you hear, see and feel jets and helicopters ALL the time. And it is impossible to forget that it’s my husband up there, flying at nearly the speed of sound in a metal container. (All in a day’s work, right?) But he has always come home.
So this post, like this day, is dedicated to those who didn’t come home. We continue to go through our day to day, a proud military family putting up with whatever crap comes with it, in their honor. We don’t forget them or the families who miss them every day, not just today. Thank you for the sacrifice. We will never be able to repay you for what you gave to this country.