Young and Free

As I may have said before, I'm young. I have an old soul, and I've lived a lot, I mean really lived, but according to the world, I'm very young. 

22 to be exact. 

A 22 year old police wife. 

My man-in-blue is on midnights (10:00p.m.-6:00a.m.) and I'd be lying if I said falling asleep without him here next to me was easy. You scroll through the old FB for a while, until you see a photo. Then your mind starts to wander and eventually you end up at the bottomless pit of contemplation. 

Tonight that photo happened to be a half moon of soldiers, in full gear and gas masks. You can't see their faces, can't tell the color of their skin. They look fearsome - like they could wreak havoc in the blink of an eye if necessary. They're broad shouldered. They stand tall, unified. 

And all I can see is children. 

You know, those men in that photo would lay their life down for me without even thinking twice about it. They have families, loved ones at home, and they would give up everything to make sure I have the freedom to choose. 

They're probably about my age. 

Young. 

But here's the thing; we've never known anything but war. 

The world trade centers were attacked when I was in third grade. I don't remember much prior to that. But I remember coming home and curling up in my mom's lap while she held me tight and cried. Saying things about my granddad, and his time in the war that I didn't understand until I was much older. 

I remember the army recruiters being at every school event, every carnival, every ballgame, from then until the time I graduated. 

War is an ugly thing. The end often justifies the means, and sometimes these things are necessary. It's hard though, to watch your buddies leave, train, fight, come back broken or hardened. To know that you're the reason they fight.  

I believe there are things in life that age us; things that make us see the world with less wonder than we did as a child. And as "young" as I may be, I can't find my way back to that place where I only see the good in the world.  It can be a dark, dark place. 

My heart aches for our soldiers - those over there doing a thankless job, those who are still healing from their deployments, those who are ready to roll out on command. 

But I cannot thank you enough for all you do. It was the spirit of men like you who gave us a reason to celebrate as we will tomorrow. Thank you for defending those documents that give us so many ideals and liberties. Thank you for putting our freedom first. 

Here's to the Red, White, and Blue.

xoxo

Lacy