As we celebrate another of our nation’s birthday this Independence Day, I am reminded of a July 4th post I wrote back in 2011 when my son, Rob, was deployed to Afghanistan. Rob is home now, but re-reading the post today brings all those feelings back to me. It also makes me feel a deep gratitude that he returned with his body, and his psyche, intact. I will forever feel grateful for that.
I still feel connected to those who served in that faraway country. I am privileged to have worked as a counselor with Marines, Soldiers, Airmen, and Sailors who were deployed and returned from Afghanistan and Iraq. Their stories are chilling, young men who know the horrors of war and are still trying to make sense of it all.
The ones who are still deployed, still in danger, the ones who are struggling, and the many who are wounded warriors.
Think for a moment about the ones...
I’ve decided to come clean and tell you the truth: I’m going to write you every week. Whoa. I cringe because I’ve said this before. But this time I really mean it.
When have you promised yourself (or someone else) that you’d do something? And then - it happens. You stop doing something you meant to do. And usually it goes like this: you miss a week. A week turns into 2 weeks and then 2 becomes a month, and then the next thing, it’s not happening. AT ALL. Please tell me you’ve done this, too.
The thing is, I KNOW what happens for me. It’s called a big fat, mean saboteur, who sits on my shoulder.
I hear him breathing in disgust, reading what I’ve just written. “So, Jo ... when did you get so bold that you're telling people you’re going to write them every week? Really?” (I can imagine him rolling his eyes). “How long will it last THIS TIME? You can’t even think of what to write about."...