Believe it or not, it’s actually ironic and pure coincidence I’m writing this particular column with Memorial Day around the corner.
The past couple of weeks this idea has been in my head as a column, but the thoughts behind it have been there for years, and quite frankly, my entire life.
You see, I grew up in a military family. My dad, Michael, spent 23 years on active duty in the Navy and 30 years in the military altogether. My brother, Damian, is currently on active duty in the Navy as is my uncle Chris, and my sister, Brandy, was active duty for nearly a decade.
A life in the military was like this lingering presence in my home growing up I ignored. I didn’t let it in because I always felt like I was destined to do more. Like my family and those like them made sacrifices for me to chase my dreams. But why was I so special that they needed to sacrifice for me, while I sacrificed nothing?
It wasn’t until I was in college that I legitimately gave a military career and life real consideration. As a history minor you learn about all these different wars — who fought, why they fought, their strategies and targets — but what you don’t learn about is the individuals who fought those wars. You don’t learn about why they chose to sacrifice the very breath in their lungs and their own beating heart.
Every time I watch a war movie or show, watch a video on Facebook of a military member surprising family upon returning from deployment or read about anything regarding war, I don’t just think about them sacrificing their own life. I think about the sacrifice they make in leaving their loved ones for months or even years at a time, and not only having to face the reality they may never see them again, but also the fact their loved ones may never see them again. Most of the time, the latter is far more crippling than the former to think about.
Thinking about those sacrifices every current, retired or discharged military member had to make to protect our freedom, both domestically and abroad, as well as for other nations in need, shakes me to my very core. Every time I think about it my stomach twists up or I feel a lump in my throat. It’s the one thing, without fail, that can make me emotional on a dime.
This isn’t about Memorial Day. This is about those who made that sacrifice, regardless of whether or not they lived or died. This is about those who continue to make that sacrifice day in and day out and ask for nothing in return.
As a writer it’s a tough pill to swallow to admit you don’t have the right words to characterize the point you’re trying to make. Words can only do so much justice. Respect can do much more, and my utmost respect is what each and every military member has of mine.
Yet the word “respect” still doesn’t even feel anywhere close to powerful enough to fully justify my admiration of service men and women.
Love, on the other hand, is the most powerful word and feeling of all.
It may seem silly, if not downright cheesy, to say that I love the military and its brave men and women who make the ultimate sacrifices without any thought of reciprocation, but I really don’t care. I love the military and every last honest member — past, present and future — alike. I love them for protecting me, my family and every American and allowing us all the freedom to chase our dreams, fight for our passions and thrive in the best country on earth.
I may not feel worthy of their sacrifices, as I’m sure many people don’t, but I want them all to know I am beyond grateful. Thank you. n
Joshua Campbell is sports editor of The Columbian-Progress. Reach him via email at joshua campbell@columbianprogress.com or call (601) 736-2611.
