Today was my brother Richard’s birthday. We all called him Bubba. He was a good man, worked hard, served his country for eight years in Germany and was the one who kept the peace amongst us girls. Poor Bubba.
My sister and I have been feuding lately, forgetting what is really important in life. Behaving as if we were two adolescents fighting for control over the bathroom. Insanity.
Soldiers are Freedom Fighters, and Bubba was one today. Late this evening I asked my sister to take me to his grave, and without hesitation she agreed.
She knelt at his graveside and pulled the weeds and grass from around his marker, and from his neighboring veteran a gentleman who had served his country in World War II. We sang Happy Birthday to him, she gave him a cigarette, and we embraced and cried. We talked about how he used to keep the peace in our home, and saved us from insanity in our wild youth.
I salute you Pvt 2 Ricard N. Mulkey, and all Freedom Fighters and Peace Keepers that came before you and after you and that are still to come. Soldiers never die. Honor is forever.