They were the first words that came to mind when my brother died, and again when I read of a particular young Marine's death.
Before he became one of the proud, the few, he was a young homeschooled boy whose mother and I frequented the same educational forum. I often read her excellent and useful personal blog for inspiration as well. I poured out my sadness over the bullying of my then-7-year-old on the forum, and was surprised and touched when her teenage son reached out to my Squirt in an open letter.
Squirt treasured that letter, and when the time came for Big Boy to enter college, returned the favor. In Squirt's letter, he reminded Big Boy how much it his words had meant to him and wished him luck. Both Big Boy and his mother responded; it was their turn to be touched and teary-eyed.
Obviously, it has been some time since I visited the blog. Big Boy died last November and I read of his death just today.
War is hell.
