Just Ask….

The gentleman across the hospital waiting room had Vietnam Veteran sewn on his cap. When  I asked what branch of service he had served in, he laughed, horrified to think he just couldn’t look like anything other than a Marine. Our conversation allowed him to say; it’s just too hard to talk about those times, and he shared stories of his life instead. He stood up when it was my turn to leave and thanked me. Me? For his sacrifice? Good grief. When he was serving, I was busy making forts in the woods, doing pirouettes at ballet class, and playing Red Rover in the backyard.  

I am humbled. 

I was waiting, again, this time in a different clinic.  My watch said I had been in the VA hospital for three hours. My stomach was growling, and I was a bit agitated that I had missed…