This day is yours

I don’t usually do this. Typically, I refrain from talking about the military, because somehow it almost always evokes talk of a more political nature. However, I really feel like I should thank the veterans in life who have influenced me, starting with my father.

Mark and I are alike in a lot of ways. I get my speaking ability from him, as well as a certain charisma that makes us seem so approachable and friendly. Those of you that know me can testify to my extroverted personality. We like to show off a little to our friends and we gravitate toward the center of attention. We enjoy many of the same things when it comes to cuisine. Still, we are very different, in more ways than we are alike. There are too many differences to list, although I would say a big one would be our political views, as he is a conservative and I am fairly liberal. Another very noticeable difference is our heights, as I am almost eight inches taller than him, maybe more.

My old man has seen a lot in his lifetime. He was the fourth of six boys, and, at the time of his birth, was the smallest baby born in the state of New York. What he lacked in stature he made up for with his personality. My uncle told me about some of the pranks my father initiated… I could devote an entire blog them, not just a post. He was forced to grow up early, though, when my grandmother died. My grandfather was devastated and my father, who at the time was 16 and the oldest boy left in the house, had to help take care of his younger brothers.

He end up joining the Air Force during the Vietnam War. Although the war was nearing its end, my father still saw things that, even today, he does not freely speak about. As I am now, at the age of 25, I still have yet to witness (and I hope I never do) the horrors that he experienced when he was only 18 and 19 years old. Despite going through what destroyed so many physically, mentally, and emotionally, he came back and made a life for himself in the military. Eventually he put his charisma to work for the Air Force and recruited many new Airmen. He also found time to father me, which I am grateful for.

My father once again saw action in the Gulf War. I was old enough to remember the effect it had on the people around me. My mother was frightened but tried to put on a strong front, Selina was too young to realize what was going on, and my brother, Simon, had somehow come to the conclusion that he was already dead. I myself was scared that I’d never get to see him again. He sent us videos and pictures and we sent him supplies that he couldn’t get there. He always smiled and told us everything was okay.

Back then I thought he was the bravest man ever. While I will never doubt the bravery of any veteran, I know now that he too was afraid. Every soldier is afraid at some point or another, yet they still fight for their friends and family. They face horrors that most of us only think we know through our movies, shows, and video games. Some give everything, but all of them pay with a little piece of themselves.

I would also like to recognize my grandfather, Bill, for his service during WWII. He was a Marine and he fought in one of the bloodiest battles to take place in the Pacific: Iwo Jima. I did not get to know him very well before he passed away, but to this day I still proudly tell others of his service. He and the men he fought alongside became the shining example of the Marine fighting spirit.

I can’t forget about the Headley brothers, Matt and Austin, either. These are the guys I think of when I think Marines. They live for the Corps, serving several tours of duty in the Middle East. You can call them what you want: Jarheads, warriors, grunts, bullet sponges… I call them heroes. My friends. My brothers. I am proud to call them those things. Semper Fidelis.

Today I want to thank all the heroes, those in my life and those who fight for me without knowing me, for the sacrifices they made. Our country is far from perfect, but they fought and still fight to protect it and us. We shouldn’t limit our gratitude to just one day a year, though. We should always recognize them and, if they need it, lend them a helping hand.

So to all of my friends and family who have served, and those that still serve: Thank you…

Especially you, Dad.

Advertisement