Welcoming Home an American Soldier, Brother, and Friend...Again
I'm going to take a quick break from the snark factor that I would normally display and take a moment to talk about something very personal to me and greater than all of us: the American soldier. I know some of you will probably say that writing this is a bit of a cop out since admittedly, it's certainly popular to publicly support the troops. After all, there aren't many who will openly deride the men and women whose jobs potentially involve giving their lives for their country. My reason for this piece, however, is going to be a little selfish.
As I write this, my older brother Tom, a United States Army physical therapist, medic, and all around decent guy, is likely on his way back from the Middle East...for the sixth time. To say that he's seen and done more in his military career than most civilians see and do in a lifetime, particularly since the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, 2001, is a tremendous understatement. I would certainly be lying if I said that I wouldn't give up practically everything I have to possess the intestinal fortitude that he, and others like him, have to face the threats he has had to face going all the way back to Operation Desert Storm in 1991.
Tom, like thousands of our men and women in uniform, is perpetually humble about his experience and achievements, often saying that it's all just part of the job. He's right. While it is indeed part of the job, my problem has been that I can't seem to recall the last time I specifically thanked him for what he does. Sure, I've made it a point to walk up to others in uniform when I've seen them in an airport or wherever, shake their hand, thank them for their service, and perhaps offer to buy them an adult beverage or a meal.
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