A Veteran's Lament

The path before me is beset with both mystery and wonder; awe and chaos. I thrive in chaos. That I have lived so long the way I am is a testament to that. Sometimes…sometimes I wonder if I shouldn't have died on some distant battlefield. I know that's not something a sane mind wishes for but sometimes I wonder…

I was important then. My words had weight; my voice was thunder. It was enough that I said something and it was done. That I would point my finger and men would go in that direction. That I would say fight and those men would fight to the bone and if I said to die, for their country and Corps, they would die with honor and glory. I would teach something and it was gospel. I would give guidance and it was pure wisdom. My rank carried respect and so it fell upon the man whose shoulders those chevrons were pinned upon to live up to and earn that respect and return it in kind. To lead by example. I had respect like that once. My words had weight and I had purpose.

Alas,that was so long ago. Civilian life, has made me weak and hollow. Wave after wave, it has slowly eroded away, the respect, the purpose and even some parts of that man. All they see is a quiet man; civilians see a blue collar worker who has no political clout or authority. I am dismissed as just another ordinary man. And I am. I'm no one special. I'm just another American enjoying his freedoms. However, long ago, I was on that wall and my whole life's purpose revolved around protecting that very freedom for my family, friends, neighbors and complete stranger alike. That they bled Red, White and Blue was the only reason I needed to do so. It was the only thank you I needed. Sometimes, I'm a homeless man. Not because I can't find a job but because that distant battlefield was my home for so long that, when my tour of duty ended, I brought that home back home with me. 

Yet I have hope. Not from the few of you that recognize my former rank and title because you've seen other warriors return from previous wars. No, not even from you that thank me for my service and sacrifice. I have hope when I see freedom. I have hope when I see Americans living together and thriving despite their differences. You who don't agree with gay marriage but understand that all Americans should have a right to be happy with whomever they fall in love with. You who don't believe in abortion but understand that your beliefs should not infringe upon the freedoms of a woman's very right to do what she wishes with her own body. You who are right to be concerned about our southern border but understand that this is a country forged by the sweat off the brow of immigrants. You who do not like a black President in the White House but respect his office or, at the very least, disagree with his political views and not the color of his skin. Believe it or not all of you give me hope. 

It's not enough to say we live in a free country. We have to live up to that proclamation. We have to believe in it; we have to believe in ourselves. Furthermore, we must do it for those on the wall. We must do it for those soldiers, sailors, airmen and marines that have stepped to the line and are always prepared to give their all in defense of that freedom we oftentimes take for granted. We must never allow a warrior to come home and become a veteran who laments upon that distant battlefield, whereupon he had purpose, respect and honor, as the last bastion where he or she tasted of freedom and equality. 

The path before me is beset with mystery and wonder. Fear and chaos but also purpose and hope. Were that I had just enough respect left that you might hear my words and follow my command and example one last time then perhaps…

…perhaps I would not lament so much on that distant battlefield or those long, cold nights of sentry duty on that wall.