I salute you who has served more tours of duty in the non-war, but no less horrid land of hell.
For going where no one had gone before…or at least not for many years.
For sharing your religious views at the lunch table just to get a rise out of mom.
For trying to convince me that what I touched wasn’t mouse crap, even though it clearly was.
For making us laugh so we wouldn’t scream… or hurl… or commit homicide.
For driving many hours and then buying me snacks at Wawa because I forgot my money.
For buying that latch hook pillow from me that I had made, even though a hobo wouldn’t.
For creating a distraction so I could throw things away, and for telling me just throw it away when I wan’t to ask.
For giving me the hammer to get some therapeutic blow out.
We who are about to wish we’d died, salute you. Job well done!