The Price of Freedom

While down in Florida, I received word that a sorority sister lost her husband in a tragic helicopter crash in Afghanistan along with his fellow Navy Seals.  I was speechless.  Tears just streamed down my face.  I felt this deep sorrow in my heart and tried to imagine how much pain the family members of these brave soldiers, and especially their children, were feeling.  Unless I was in their shoes, I don’t think I could even begin to feel their anguish.  I get a pit in stomach knowing these children’s fathers will no longer see them grow up, wipe their tears, and walk them down the aisle.  All these moments I tend to take for granted as mother.  

I sometimes forget that these life moments we are not entitled to, but are privileged to.  I take for granted that we have all these freedoms in America and we have to preserve and protect them.  I am ashamed to admit this, but I sometimes feel so distant from the war after ten years.  I hear numbers on the news of fatalities and injuries and have trouble putting a face or a story with each passing or injured.    

This horrific incident has reminded me that each number heard on the nightly news has loved ones who are mourning their loss of life.  Each number has family who is forced to get out of bed each morning and put one foot in front of the other until it becomes the new norm of feeling.  Each number has left behind family who treasures their memories even tighter and keeps their love ones even closer now.  Each number has a family who has to learn to move on while their hearts are five steps behind them. I have been boldly reminded that each day we are given in this world is a gift.  

I want to thank all of the Armed Services for all that you do and their families who make those sacrifices.  

Each day, I hold these two girls even tighter.  Freedom in life is a gift and is worth fighting for.  Being an American makes me smile.

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