I met a veteran on Memorial Day who hadn't died on the battlefield for his country, but he had certainly given a good portion of his life to it. It seemed fitting, in some way, that he passed away peacefully in his sleep on Memorial Day. We don't normally wait for the funeral home to arrive, but being that it was a holiday, they were short-handed and it just seemed like the proper thing to do, to carry this gentleman from his home.
I don't know when he served, but his age meant that it could have been World War II, Korea, or maybe even the early stages of Vietnam. Maybe it was a little of each. But that doesn't matter. He stepped forward when his nation asked him to.
I wondered if his brothers-in-arms were gathered to welcome him today, men who had gone long before in battle, others later in life. I wondered what that reunion must have been like. I wondered if he walked upright, strong, and youthful.
Memorial Day honors those who fell in battle. Veterans Day honors those who remain among us, though for many their latest sun is sinking fast.
Carry on, Sir. Carry on.
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