No Word

This morning we celebrated Thanksgiving for our Veterans during Service.
It began with our Bell Choir's rendition of "I Love You, Lord". Beautiful.
Our Pastor then moved pew by pew inviting each person to name the veterans in their life, so that we could pray together for all of these remarkable servicemen and women.

I've copied a poem below, which was read by a Gold Star Mom. Truly, the morning was filled with tears of sadness, tears of pride and tears of Thanksgiving for all who have ever served our country, along with those who serve today.

This past week has been filled with oodles of articles regarding our Veterans, countless Blog Dedications, numerous parades and other forms of paying tribute. Truly, it has been a week to fill one's heart with Patriotism.

Now we begin a new week... Families of enlisted men and women will remember their loved ones, for our lives have a constant ache. If our son or daughter, husband or wife are currently serving overseas or stateside..we miss them. Will they be home for the holidays, when will we be able to give them a hug, hear their voice or share a bit of "skin-time" (Thanks, ShaysMom).

We are the lucky ones. We, who have our loved ones, though they may be far away...we have still have them. We still hold on to hope to share time with them once again....

Then there are those, who have suffered the intense pain of losing a loved one.
Of everything I have read this week, and trust me...I have read several beautiful tributes, the one which stung me was this: When a child loses a parent, they become an orphan; when a wife loses her husband, she becomes a widow...ever notice there is no word for a mother who loses her child?

There is no word.



I thought of this, while listening to the sweet mom who choked her way through reading this poem:

FREEDOM IS NOT FREE

I watched the flag pass by one day,
It fluttered in the breeze;
A young Marine saluted it,
And then he stood at ease.

I looked at him in uniform,
So young, so tall, so proud;
With hair cut square and eyes alert,
He'd stand out in any crowd.

I thought... how many men like him
Had fallen through the years?
How many died on foreign soil?
How many mothers' tears?

How many pilots' planes shot down
How many died at sea
How many foxholes were soldiers' graves
No, Freedom is not Free.

I heard the sound of Taps one night,
When everything was still;
I listened to the bugler play,
And felt a sudden chill;

I wondered just how many times
That Taps had meant "Amen"
When a flag had draped a coffin
Of a brother or a friend;

I thought of all the children,
Of the mothers and the wives,
Of fathers, sons and husbands.
With interrupted lives.

I thought about a graveyard
At the bottom of the sea,
Of unmarked graves in Arlington.
No. Freedom is not Free!
©Copyright 1981 by Kelly Strong

I Love You Lord