Thank you for your sacrifice....

Thank you for your sacrifice….big words. They mean a lot. Words I’ve heard repeatedly. Words, I’ve actually, cringed at hearing. Not because they don’t mean so much. Words, I’m actually very careful, to tell people about my personal connection to the war, because it’s so hard to hear them.

I don’t rightly know how to act when others say Thank You, to me, because Mike made the ultimate sacrifice. I’ve never understood them.

Please don’t think I don’t think anyone who has sacrificed for our nation, and freedom, and ideals, and their families doesn’t deserve them. Just call me, uncomfortable with hearing them, myself.

I have to say, I don’t honestly think that Mike would understand why the fuss over him. I don’t think he’d understand it. He’d tell you that he was just a Marine, doing his job. A job he loved. A calling...a passion…a commitment. Yes, a commitment to the Marine Corps, and per se, the job, but more so to his brother Marines. That’s who he was concerned about.

Mike didn’t ask to die. He didn’t stand up and say “yep, it’s ok with me”…he was doing his job…the same job that Marines and others serving, do day in and day out, and well, he fell in the line of duty. For that, he is honored by others. And I never want him forgotten, or that ultimately, he did make that sacrifice. But neither, do I think Mike would be comfortable with it. He would look at us, and literally go “I was doing my job. So is everyone else. Why aren’t you thanking them? They were willing to make the same sacrifice.”

At the same time, I’m so very proud of him, and all those that have served, and fallen. Sometimes, I don’t get why we make memorials to our fallen (granted, I love seeing them, too, but..)…when we could help some of those that have returned---the same men that served alongside our fallen---while they are living. I can’t help but think, that there is nothing we can do to help those that have fallen. But there is so much we can do for those that are living. I guess, I just think that’s what men, like Mike, would want. I’m not saying we shouldn’t honor the fallen, not saying that at all. But let’s not forget about those that were willing to make that same sacrifice.

Then, I have to say the same thing, for myself. When people say “Thank you for your sacrifice…” to me…I’m uncomfortable. Because it does mean a lot. But at the same time, no one came up to me and asked “ok, well, is it ok if we take the man you love with every ounce of your being, away, and make you live the rest of your life without him?” No, of course that wasn’t asked of me. I’m standing in the same position that every person has throughout history that sends a loved one to war. It’s just mine happened to be one of the ones to be forever remembered in the history books---and my heart.

When he deployed, no one asked me if it was ok if he was killed. I stood, like every other loved one, behind my Marine, and offered my love and support. Although the outcome was different, I wasn’t better prepared or offered to make, per se, a bigger sacrifice.

This is all, just what the circumstances demanded of myself, and men like Mike…we didn’t chose it. So I guess I don’t understand, especially from others that have made so many sacrifices themselves---like veterans/active duty, and their families---when they thank Mike or I… I guess I just view us as simple people, living and loving…and just circumstances dictated this was the outcome…

Point in case, I attended a funeral, for a local Corpsmen. I had known him when I was a teen—actually helped guide him in the direction of the military. When the doc was killed…I wanted to pay my respects to him, and his family for their sacrifice. Someone else I knew was there, and they told me that there was a Marine standing at the back, who wouldn’t leave his post. After all, the doc had patched him up, and he was standing at the funeral, alive, because of the Doc. There was no way he was leaving his post.

I approached this Marine. Decorated. Combat hardened. Multiple tours. I approached him, simply, to thank him for his service and his sacrifices. I thought he might need a bit of well, something to let him know we appreciated him. And I knew it was hard on him to be at the funeral, but he needed to know we were proud of him and the Doc both.

Someone, in their infinite wisdom, after I thanked the Marine decided they should tell him that my fiancé had been killed in Iraq. I have no idea why they thought it was pertinent. Why it was necessary to point that out? I was so angry, honestly, because they took my focus of thanks for the Marine and the fallen Doc, where it should have been, and placed it on me. The Marine instantly, like any Marine I’ve ever encountered, shifted from acknowledging humbly and trying to brush off my thanks for HIS service---and thanked me for my sacrifice. I’ll never understand that. Ever. He went to war. He signed the dotted line. He batted real and imagined enemies. He risked his life. I just had the honor of being loved by a man as real and honorable…and funny, as my Mike. Aren’t I the lucky one, already? Why give me thanks, when people like the injured Marine, are the ones who deserve it?

I see why people say it. I’m not saying those who make the ultimate sacrifice don’t deserve the words. I’m not saying our Gold Star families don’t deserve those words. But I’m also saying, that those who serve alongside these men and made it back home, deserve the words as well…as do their families that stand beside them.

Oh, and that while I appreciate the words, well, I guess I just don’t feel I deserve them. I’m already the luckiest woman to have had a love as true and wonderful as that between Mike and I. Not everyone ever finds that, ever. So, although it was for far to short, I’m grateful.

Extra note from some feedback I've been getting: Ok, this one, could cause some "what?" from others. I guess I may not be expressing it right. I'm just saying that I personally am not comfortable with it, with regard to myself...and that I think we shouldn't forget to thank others out there, as well, that were willing to make the same sacrifice, even if ultimately, they didn't end up making it. If this doesn't make sense, well, I do call myself the crazy brunette girl for a reason!