All gave some. Some gave all.
If you're looking for one of those heart-breaking, tear-jerking stories of veterans and joyful reunions, you will need to go somewhere else. Those make for great stories. If you find a good one, send it my way.
But that's not normal fare around here. A lot of my stories reveal the less significant, though that does not make them less important.
That might never be more true than today. Memorial Day, of course, is an opportunity to honor our veterans as well as our current service men and women. This group would include my dad.
My dad served in the Vietnam War. It was long before I was born, the oldest to my parents. My dad did not come back with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. He did not wake up with nightmares. He was never absent due to flashbacks. He was a good dad.
You can imagine how cool it was for a young boy to hear his dad was G.I. Joe. So I asked details. It turns out that my dad was a mechanic. Things break down in Vietnam too, I guess. Word on the street is that he ever fired his weapon.
So, like I said, no drama here. My dad served his country. He came back. He served his family. He served Jesus. There is a simple beauty to be found in insignificance.