The feelings and memories always come back around Memorial Day, some of their names and faces I remember; some are just the wail of medevac copter blades. MaryBeth was having a hard time understanding why I wanted some along time, until I couldn’t hold back the tears. We were all so young, invincible, and naive about life and war. Sunday, my two Houston grandsons were baptized, and as we prayed for their young souls, I realized, as I do every Memorial Day, how precious life is, a gift not to be wasted. Today, don’t waste a minute of the gift called life.
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