I'm borrowing Tipp's entry from her Journal. She's says it more perfectly that I ever could!
Here is an excerpt: "It’s official. And it is not good. I have hit another anniversary that I never wanted to celebrate.
I realized today that this will be the fifth Fourth of July holiday that I will have someone I love in the sands of Iraq or Afghanistan. Five years of men who I love, who I care about, and who I will worry about in the desert. They are in battle situations, on hazardous roads, and surviving miles away from their loved ones. They are hot, tired, homesick, and trying to do a job most Americans do not understand and most don’t agree with." please go and read the rest.
To answer her question, my heros are:
♥ My UncleD on my BioMother's Side of the Family. He's one of the highest ranking officers now. We're VERY proud of him! He's served 5 tours over in the desert. His first round being the desert storm in the 90s. I didn't know what it ment then what he was doing but I understand now and I stand beside him with all my heart. He's my hero.
♥ My CousinT on my BioMother's Side of the Family. He's an officer as well. Him and his family lived over in Germany during more peaceful times onbase for a good many years. He's had 2 tours currently with this war just recently getting back not long ago. He's my hero.
♥ My Friend TeeJ. He's not been over to Iraq or served at all. He's Just recently graduated from BootCamp. But he is still my hero.
♥ My BestestFriend in the whole world Coolio. He's in the AirForce and moved around like a chess peice from base to base. He's done tours to the desert and other mini missions where he's only gone for a month. (Special Ops) He's my hero that I worry about the most because he dissapears too much and can't tell us about it.
♥ One of my Brothers is in the National Guards but so far he hasn't been sent anywhere yet except bootcamp. But he's still a hero to me because we know he'd go willingly and proudly when its his turn.
“...So do we pass the ghosts that haunt us later in our lives; they sit undramatically by the roadside like poor beggars, and we see them only from the corners of our eyes, if we see them at all. The idea that they have been waiting there for us rarely if ever crosses our minds. Yet they do wait, and when we have passed, they gather up their bundles of memory and fall in behind, treading in our footsteps and catching up, little by little.”--Stephen King
4-30-11 = Best Day of My Life
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