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Many in my family have served. None have lost their lives. Some have been injured; some have suffered with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, but none have paid the ultimate price. There may be some reading here today who have a very different story.
My closest link to a fallen soldier was through my grandmother whose dearest friend was a WWII widow. Her husband was shot down somewhere over the Mediterranean Sea in 1944; the wreckage was never found. She delivered a healthy baby boy not long after the loss. This is that little boy, his own photo taken with a photo of the father he never knew. How many similar photos grace homes across the country today?
The photo has been purposely blurred as this is not my story to tell nor my personal photo to share. I'm leaving this photo out for a few days just to remember by — to remember the price that has been paid over and over again. I wonder how many little boys and girls are growing up without a parent because that parent is one of our fallen heroes. The price is paid over and over again in multiple ways across time. Let us not forget to pray for those serving even today and their precious families.
God bless your day and may we never forget...
