Ten years of heartache. A nagging limp or chronic breathing condition. A child, now an adult, wondering why Daddy still hasn’t come home. Rage. Non-stop cranes and jackhammers rebuilding a grave. Still forgetting that she won’t be there when he rolls over. Guilt. Replays on screens. A recorded voice announcing, “Let’s roll.” A message from Afghanistan.
Ten years of life. Ten years of freedom. Ten years of beauty from sea to shining sea. Ten years of camaraderie, generosity, and service. Ten years of love. Ten short, fearless years.
Ten years ago they attacked the fabric of our lives. That fabric endured, wiping our tears, dressing our wounds, streaming across our skies in a brilliant red, white, and blue, announcing to all:
We will not give up.
We will not give in.
We will not die.
Ten years later, the souls of the fallen still whisper to us through glorious stars and stripes…