As I reflected on Veteran's Day today, my mind inevitably wandered to my dad. His favorite place on earth was Camp Perry, a military base in Ohio. I googled Camp Perry, and eventually I wound up at an article published online a few years ago that linked to my dad's name - this little spotlight just made me smile. I remember the funeral at Camp Perry, accept my mom and I witnessed it separated from the crowd, up in a tower down one of the ranges, so that we could have the very best view of the skydiver carrying the American flag, swirling in the air with colorful smoke shooting from his specialized boots. One boot carried red dust which drew streaks of color in the sky, the other boot emitted a lighter, more faint gray line. In this boot, were the ashes of my father. The colors mixed and swirled together as the skydiver careened to the group, the American flag he was carrying whipping in the wind. The 21-gun salute and bugler ended the ceremony and although it's a sad memory, it's one I am certainly grateful to have.
Today, and every other day I am grateful for our Veterans and all of their sacrifices for our Freedom. :)