The Luck of the Draw

So it took me 30 years to realize that my dad was a young man during the Vietnam War. Just this past year, I asked him about his experience with the draft. His older brother avoided the draft because he was a college student. By the time my dad was in college, that provision was no longer there. He told me he drew a high number . . . the luck of the draw.

I realized how powerful that was. Had he been drafted to Vietnam, he may not have returned home. And if he did, he would be forever changed, possibly physically, and most definitely psychologically. He may never have met and married my mother, and I may not be here today.

On this Memorial Day, I remember those who did not choose to serve their country, but gave their lives in service anyway.

On this Memorial Day, I remember those who lived and sacrificed through World War II, living on rations and standing in lines for goods because so many resources went to the war effort. I especially remember them because today, as our country is involved in war on two fronts (much like World War II), our daily lives are virtually unaffected as citizens of the United States.

My grandfather was a liberator of Guam during World War II. He did not give his life serving his country, and for that I am thankful. He was 18 years old, and had he died, my mother would not have been born, and thus I would not have been born.

Today I remember those families who were not so lucky, and the generations that were forever changed because their family members were willing to serve their country.

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