The rain comes down softly. Not salty of tears but fresh to wash the grief of those standing silent. With respect and memory, the pebbles are placed.
Yesterday I placed money in a contribution container. Sitting at a table with their poppies, two of the few remaining veterans of the Second World War reminded me of how much wars have cost. How little things have changed in the last few years, except for the innocents who are dying.
Looking through my files, it seems like this day means something when I am deployed but passes almost unnoticed when I am in garrison. The details of ordinary life taking away critical meaning, reflection, and honor.
Life is too precious to spend it carelessly. I am honored to serve, but I see the cost in lives and injuries as we remain mired in the middle of an inevitable civil war. As I contemplate my friends downrange, I can but pray for their safe return.
In the morning I head to the field for a couple of weeks. 1AD will roll this fall. Doing what I can to help them be ready and worry about what is in store.
May wisdom be granted to those who lead, while those elected face the responsibilities oftoday. For the lives lost, torn assunder, and the families that remain.