Born to serve.

I was crossing the street to my apartment this afternoon when I noticed a man with a cane cross the street. We ended practically at the same point on the sidewalk when I noticed who he was. I didn't actually know him, but reality washed over me when I realized I could. He wore an Operation Enduring Freedom hat and walked swiftly, not letting his injury slow him down.

I sort of stared at him before saying hello and then broke out into tears. He looked at me like I was a disturbed crack addict, and I'm pretty sure I gave him the motivation to walk faster. I ran up to my apartment and just rationalized. He could have totally sprained an ankle earlier today, hurt his back playing football with his little brothers or been in a minor car accident. Maybe. But maybe he was injured on his deployment.

And I get that it happens but my GOD can I go just one day without a reminder? Yes, I bring a lot of it on myself and no, I'm not the only person to think like this but I feel like November has been a constant month of just fear. I wasn't this afraid in the beginning.

So then I was walking home from the gym tonight and I was just staring at the sidewalk and I imagined what it must be like to just wonder. What if I stepped right there and the whole thing exploded? How do our guys do it? How does the concept of route clearance not strike fear into them to the point they freeze and shut down? Courage like that isn't taught. It can't be drilled into them during training. They're born to serve. They have to be.

My husband is the bravest person I know.