As I was driving to work this morning I was thinking my usual thoughts: How much I hate commuting. The pain my feet were going to experience once the Ibuprofen wore off. What I was going to eat to keep my blood-sugar normal without filling me up and spoiling my appetite. I noticed a white Cadillac approaching and moved into the right lane. It was a hearse. The casket in back was draped in a flag.
All thoughts of my own (minor) misery ended. Was this hero fallen in the current conflict? Was he or she a veteran of Vietnam or Korea? Maybe World War Two. I had (and have) no idea. Regardless of which event this person was involved in, they sacrificed far more than I for our country.
As I was working today, my thoughts went back to this veteran. Would they feel honored to have protected a chubby 43 year old liquor store clerk? I have no answer to this. To all that are currently serving right now who happen to read this, there is a middle-aged cashier in Vancouver, Washington who appreciates your sacrifices, and who gets a lump in his throat seeing a fallen soldier or sailor or marine or airman, who has made the ultimate sacrifice, being driven to his or her final resting place. God bless.