As I am writing this, it is the 4th of July back in the United States, a day where we celebrate our independence from the tyranny of England since 1776. Meanwhile, I am deployed to the Middle East in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom and Operation Enduring Freedom. I can’t help but think of all those who sacrifice so much to ensure we will still celebrate independence in the years to come.
Where I am is a very safe location and far from the action. However, as I watch my military brothers and sisters go deeper into the fight I can’t help but think of their families. It is not a fun experience to be away from my family for four months, but there are many who will be gone for over a year at a time. Imagine leaving your family knowing you won’t see them again for a very long time. I can’t even begin to imagine a whole year.
The ironic thing is that these men and women are fighting not just for the security of our nation but for other nations to have the ability to celebrate their freedom one day. Iraq is already able to breathe free from the removal of a dictator. There are many families that can celebrate the day his tyrannic thumb was lifted from their lives.
233 years ago there were those who opted to leave their families to join the masses and fight for our freedom. Not knowing when they would be home, they still stepped up to fight. I am honored and humbled to wear the same uniform and represent the same flag for which they bled.
The 4th of July has grown to become one of my favorite holidays after my time in Iraq five years ago. Knowing that I play a tiny part in helping another family burn burgers and enjoy their independence takes the sting out of not being there to do the same with my family this year. I hope and pray that one day my child will grow to understand freedom is not free.