
We went to the parade this morning, and I pulled up my chair next to an older gentleman. He was a sweetheart, one of those guys that reminds you of your father . . . or for my younger friends your grandfather. He has a sweet twinkle in his eyes, and would get up and retrieve candy that was out of Jenna's reach and hand it to her.
When the first servicemen marched through, my new friend stood immedidately, and proceded to salute. It was then I noticed that his hat said WWII Veteran. GULP. I knew I had to thank him for his service. I also knew I was in the presense of greatness.
During the parade, a sweet young mother who was walking in the parade was waving and walking her route, and she spotted my new friend. She veered right over, took his hand, and said warmly, "Thank you for serving our country." And she meant it. I looked over at him, smiling, just in time to catch his tears. And for those of you who know anything about me, I am quick to tears myself. So I looked away and let him have his moment.
We enjoyed the rest of the parade together, and when it was over Bill and I both thanked him and shook his hand. As I walked away the tears hit again. And while I know Memorial Day is about honoring the fallen, (I love this post with thoughts on this day) I can't imagine better company for a Memorial Day parade. A day to remember, to be sure.
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