I know Veteran’s Day was yesterday, but I only post scriptures on Sunday. And I know I’ve posted these photos before, but I just want to pay tribute to my parents.
My father was a veteran of WWII and Korea. In WWII, he was taken captive by the Japanese, survived the Bataan Death March, Cabanatuan, the hell ships, and forced labor mining coal 7 days a week 12 hours a day outside Nagasaki.
When we were kids, we were taught to stand for the National Anthem, and when we didn’t want what was on our plate, my parents never had to tell us about the starving kids in China. We knew…my dad nearly starved to death. He was a football player in high school, 6 feet tall, and when he was liberated, weighed 89 pounds.
My mother was also a veteran of WWII. While she never left the states, she did care for hundreds and hundreds of returning soldiers, one of which was my dad. She knew his history of a cracked skull and broken back, of malaria and beri beri and dengue fever. She knew the emotional scars that ran deeper than the scars on his back.
I never saw my dad without a shirt on, and I always considered that a form of respect. I still do, but it wasn’t until well after I became an adult that I realized he didn’t want anyone to see his scars.
Both my parents served, not because it was the popular thing to do, but it was the right thing to do. And it wasn’t something to be complained about, just a part of life. They served willingly and selflessly, and I am eternally grateful to them for the principles they instilled in me of love of family, love of country, and love of God.
What memories are you mulling over today?
A Pocketful of Joy to Fill Your Day