15 Years a Veteran

Fifteen years ago today, I was a proud (ok maybe a little scared and shell-shocked) resident of Coast Guard Training Center Cape May, NJ – aka Coast Guard Boot Camp. I don’t think I truly understood pride until that day. And I knew with every fiber of my being, Veteran’s Day would never be the same for me again.

The reasons for this are different than what you might expect. It wasn’t as if my change in perspective was simply because I was now a part of this thing. On the contrary, it was born from an overwhelming feeling of responsibility and of not being enough. I was now, by default, a part of something that was bigger than what my 18 years of life had prepared me for. 

I felt beholden to the men and women who laid this path for me. For all of their sacrifices and for all of those that had given the ultimate sacrifice. I felt so proud that I could be considered among them.

Yet, every year, I am surprised by how my admiration and respect for those who serve our country has continued to grow – now that I am a mother, now that my husband and the father of my child continues to serve, now that I continue to gain perspective.

I have wanted to write this blog for a long time. However, every year my words get jumbled and lost in feelings. I’ve wanted to write about how the first thing I remember seeing that morning was a poem that someone had scrawled on the board in our barracks, “Freedom Isn’t Free.” This pride that I previously spoke of, it began welling up in me at that moment.

You see, before that moment, I didn’t even know what day it was. I was in my 6^th week of boot camp. I barely knew day from night. The days ran together and I felt like I was living in an alternate universe. In that place, Veteran’s Day stood as a reminder of the life that I was building. A glimpse of what lay ahead for me. And I wanted it so much more with that glimpse of perspective I had gained.

At a certain moment on that day, November 11, 1999, I had an epiphany. I don’t remember what exactly we were doing, but I clearly remember my surroundings. I had this realization that was as crisp as the crackling sound of a newly cut tree falling in the woods. It created a clear dividing line in my life. I can’t help but feel like that was the moment I grew up. That was when the pride that began welling up in me that morning became crystalized. I still don’t fully understand what it meant, but I know it changed me.

That night, I huddled in the window with the other females in my company as we all strived to hear the bugler play. I got lost in the sound. I felt the sound of Taps that night right down to my soul. It reverberates with me still.