The Other Sacrifice
Giving one’s life for country
is the ultimate – but not the only – sacrifice.
What of the soldier who leaves his bride
mere days or weeks after they have wed?
What of the heartache
of that final embrace before he boards –
looking back,
not knowing if he will ever see her again?
Or the soldier who misses the birth of his child–
her first words and steps.
Only to see them at a later time,
recorded, as if he were some distant relative?
What of the sacrifice of the loved one who waits behind?
Anxious to see that sea bag on her porch again –
Wishing for it, dreaming it, yet awakening alone.
What of the wounded soldier who heals,
but lives quietly with residual pain
the rest of his mortal days?
Or the soldier depressed?
The one who returned home unharmed,
yet paralyzed remains some 40 years hence?
Or the soldier who can no longer celebrate Independence Day?
The fireworks too reminiscent
of so many roadside bombs, or hand grenades.
Or the soldier plagued by nightmares . . .
the one still losing sleep, waking nightly in a cold sweat –
only to realize (thankfully) that he’s at home.
What of the soldier who loses
not life nor limb, but love?
Two people separated, a marriage ended;
casualties of time and space.
Perhaps the soldier never had to go to war.
But still, he gave his youth, his time;
things to him which never can be returned.
And what of the soldier who returns from war
to picketers with signs and sneers?
Unappreciated by the very ones he served.
No, not all those who give their life for their country
return in a flag-draped casket.
Many give their lives in tiny little fragments –
sometimes unaware, even themselves, that part of them is gone.
Their lives forever changed – so our lives too.
And for that we thank them
with all sincerity of heart.
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