Why I Remember
It’s impossible to be who I am and not remember. I wake up every day and look in the mirror. I see I’m the child of an American G.I. and a Vietnamese civilian, a couple who never would’ve met if not for a war half a world away.
Politics aside, I wouldn’t be here if not for that war. And as I grew and learned more about politics and the military and the government and all the roles that people play in life, well, I figured out the men and women who serve in our military, no matter their reasons, are there to do a job. Right or wrong, good or bad, whether they believe in the cause or not, they have a job to do, and they do it even in the face of unimaginable pressure and sometimes danger.
I took my dad to see the traveling Vietnam Memorial and had the sad honor of seeing the real one in Washington D.C. as well as the World War II Memorial right after its completion–memorials erected to remember the sacrifice of military service men doing their jobs. The memories of those trips resonate deep inside me, strengthen the fiber of who I am, a child of a veteran, a man who lost more than most can imagine–a wife, a child, innumerable friends–in a war half a world away. How could I not remember?
Thank you to all the men and women who serve and protect this country. Thank you for your many sacrifices and those of your family and friends. You are appreciated. You are thought of. You are remembered.