Thank You For Your Service
“On behalf of the President of the United States, (the United States Army; the United States Marine Corps; the United States Navy; the United States Air Force; or the United States Coast Guard), and a grateful Nation, please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation for your loved one's honorable and faithful service.”
One of the most powerful and unexpected moments I have ever witnessed was the flag ceremony at my father’s funeral. He was a Navy man. The reverence and respect a younger generation showed this Korean War vet reminded me that reverence and respect are not lost, that what each man did to serve and protect our nation in times of war or conflict should not be forgotten or taken for granted. Dad enlisted in the Navy; he would have been called up anyway so he wanted to participate in a way that was of interest to him. He was an excellent mechanic, and sailed as a machinist on the ship. Often, in his later years, we would go to museums and tour old battle ships now permanently docked. He would walk us through life on the ship and his job there. I was always amazed that the quiet man who loved a good book in his recliner and cooked a mean bratwurst could keep a ship afloat. Or at least in my little girl imagination it was all him. These tours lit my father up. He loved the Navy.
Today, as my family has found itself in the unique position of being cyber stalked, it has become quite apparent that we are fighting a new kind of war. The year my daughter was born we witnessed war on television for the first time. You could actually tune in over dinner and watch in real time. It was mortifying. In some ways I suppose it was good to feel the catch in your breath as you hoped that the bombs falling only hit the intended and innocence was protected. But I know that wasn’t true. It was eye opening as a pregnant woman to consider the world we were bringing our children into. But I had the luxury of being safe in my living room… there was another pregnant woman somewhere caught in the middle of it all. Now, still in the comfort of my home, I have been attacked. I am not special, this can happen to anyone. Heightening our awareness around our cyber lives is key, but that is a post for another time. This moment is to honor soldiers that protect us.
You see, not long ago my son went to Africa with an organization called the Graceful Warrior Project. He mentioned in the church service the week before that he would be leaving on this trip and was excited and humbled by the things he knew he would learn there. While on the plane a woman who ran the project came and sat by my son, “ I need to show you something”………and she opened her phone. There was the hate mail that so many had received. It had come to her . Harry started to cry in frustration and explained what was happening. Quietly, she said, “I know a man your family needs to meet. When we finish the trip I will introduce you.” That was the only call I got from Africa, the one that said maybe help was on the way.
And help sure did come. The men, who now I am honored to call friends, are all Veterans. They were the first to say I see you, let me see if I can help. That moment right there turned the tide in my heart. I started to feel safe. I was personally feeling the impact of being protected by the men who serve our country. Each has a skill set behind a keyboard that is extraordinary, and they love doing it, kinda like Dad. They have worked tirelessly to bring security back into my life, to the lives of my family and dearest friends. They fittingly call themselves Avertere. (latin: to turn away or avert harm) On occasion I will get a call that says “Hey Sue, I know a guy…..we served together in this place, he is amazing, let me see if he can help too.
What touches me most is that service is not forgotten or released. These men, active duty or not, serve now in new ways protecting children and families from threats we are too ignorant or naive to clock in our everyday lives. They did not put the protection of our nation and its people down. My father? He delivered meals on wheels until 4 days before he died at 89. Service, a life of service, never seems to leave the heart of a soldier.
For all of this I can only say thank you.