Red, White, and Blue

When I was in high school I took part in this thing that required me to be interviewed by some ladies from the American Legion. I agreed to do it because my teachers said I should, but I didn't really care about the process or the outcome.

I noticed that these women of the American Legion cared about things that I had never thought of, and I felt some admiration and awe for them because of it. They cared about government, and being an involved citizen; but most striking to me was that they cared about our flag. They gave me a carefully packaged flag. They gave ME, a 15 year old kid, a flag. With it came directions on how to fold it, display it, and care for it. What was I going to do with a flag? I'd never given the flag any thought; other than to notice where it was so that I could face it when I was supposed to say the "Pledge of Allegiance" or during the National Anthem at ball games. I knew I'd never burn a flag, but truthfully I didn't understand why this activity was sometimes covered on the news. It's just a flag, right?

I remember trying to understand these women and their passion and dedication to our country and flag. They might have been wives to soldiers who fought in some war that ended long before my life. Who knows? What I did know is that they had pride and an unexplainable toughness radiating off them. I liked that.

I'm ashamed to say that it took me longer to have the same admiration for soldiers. I remember saying, "Why would anyone join the military? That's so stupid." and then quite possibly, the most ironic statement I've ever said, "I could never marry a soldier."

Then I met Jason. He had signed up for the Army Reserves a few short weeks before we met. He would be headed to Basic Training that summer. He pursued me and I liked him, so I didn't pay much attention to the big army duffel bags he dragged into our relationship. Although as our relationship grew I figured (hoped!) he'd be done with the Army soon. I chose to ignore that the duffel bags were no longer big enough to contain all the uniforms and equipment he was accumulating. Army was spilling into our lives whether I wanted it to or not. But I kept thinking, "He'll be out soon. This life isn't for us."

Fast forward 10 years to the 4th of July parade in my parents' home town. I went with my daughter and my parents. Lizzie had her "Daddy doll" with because Daddy is deployed. I stood, with pride, as the flag went by. I looked around to see if others were standing (they were). As veterans marched and rode by I was filled with pride and gratitude. Pride that I am married to a soldier. Gratitude that so many men and women are willing to volunteer to serve our country.

There were floats, signs, or some kind of representation from all branches of the military, the VFW, and the American Legion. There were lots of those older generation veterans, probably married to the women who interviewed me many years ago. There were also many younger veterans. Some younger than me. Then, a float full of women and children went by with signs of support for their deployed soldiers (dads and grandpas). I wanted to jump aboard and say, "I'm one of you too!" I wanted to push Lizzie up there and let her be surrounded by kids whose dads are making the same sacrifices as hers. I want her to know she's not alone.

Suddenly,without realizing it, I'm part of that "group" that didn't make sense to me so many years ago. I've been a military girlfriend, fiancee, and wife for awhile. But now, I have pride that can't be explained or understood. It came without warning. I cry during parades. I sometimes blink back tears when my students say the "Pledge of Allegiance". I notice and respect the flag. I smile with pride and admiration when I see a soldier in uniform. My heart skips a beat. Not because they look like the man I love (although sometimes they do!), but because I'm amazed by their courage and sacrifice.

Damn this deployment! It's giving me more reasons to be a sap. I really didn't need any more.