It doesn't seem right that your name is on this wall. August 19, 2010. Reading "The Wound Dresser" in an American Poetry class was an ironic twist in a catastrophic event. I still remember the text. "Chris is dead" and anything that Sylvia Henneberg said was no longer relevant. I suddenly remembered that I needed to breathe, but I never took my focus off of the three words on my screen. "Chris is dead."
You loved the military and were passionate about your calling. That's what is was for you: your calling. You served without fear, without reservation, without complaint. The devotion that you had to your country is something that I admire. That is why it doesn't seem fair, your name being on this wall. You did more in your twenty-three years on this planet than most people do in their lifetime.
Now that I am twenty-three, I look at my life and wonder why I am falling short. You sacrificed your life for your country, and I complain because they accidently put pickles on my hamburger at McDonald's. I am the same age you were when you died, and my life seems so insignificant. What have I done to save the world?
You saved the world with your smile, with your sense of humor, with your charm. You saved the world with your selflessness, with your helpfulness, with your stoic nature. You saved the world by just being you.
You knew exactly what you wanted to do when you graduated from high school. The military was who you were. I tried to remember that when I looked at your casket, with the colors of Old Glory flowing like a gentle river. It didn't quite seem fair. You had your whole life before you, but all you wanted your whole life was to be in the military. You did what you set out to do. All gave some.
Some gave all.
You loved the military and were passionate about your calling. That's what is was for you: your calling. You served without fear, without reservation, without complaint. The devotion that you had to your country is something that I admire. That is why it doesn't seem fair, your name being on this wall. You did more in your twenty-three years on this planet than most people do in their lifetime.
Now that I am twenty-three, I look at my life and wonder why I am falling short. You sacrificed your life for your country, and I complain because they accidently put pickles on my hamburger at McDonald's. I am the same age you were when you died, and my life seems so insignificant. What have I done to save the world?
You saved the world with your smile, with your sense of humor, with your charm. You saved the world with your selflessness, with your helpfulness, with your stoic nature. You saved the world by just being you.
You knew exactly what you wanted to do when you graduated from high school. The military was who you were. I tried to remember that when I looked at your casket, with the colors of Old Glory flowing like a gentle river. It didn't quite seem fair. You had your whole life before you, but all you wanted your whole life was to be in the military. You did what you set out to do. All gave some.
Some gave all.