...they are all around. An American flag that hangs on Tripp's wall. An "Uncle Zac" flag as Tripp proudly calls it. His Bible in my bedside table. His picture on the dash of my car. The fact that Tripp looks just like him. Acts like him.
This weekend, Logan found one of Zac's dog tags laying in an open field behind our house. No telling how it got there...or what Z was doing at the time he lost it. Probably up to no-good...along with my husband. However it found it's way off of his neck onto the ground really doesn't matter. What matters is that it's a little piece of my brother that lets me know that no matter how much I miss him...he's still here. Here in spirit. Here in little pieces like this.
As I look at this little piece of metal, I can't help but think of all the places it traveled while on his neck. Maybe he wore it while he was in Afghanistan or Pakistan. Maybe he wore it through his best days...his worst days. If little chunks of metal could talk, I'd love to hear the stories this one could tell.
So, as I hold this little piece of Zac in my hand, I can't help but smile. Smile at the thought of my brother. At the fact that after all these years, we were lucky enough to find this little piece of history.
Last, but not least, I smile at the fact that this dog-tag is a reminder that my brother...along with MANY MANY other soldiers put their lives on the line every day to fight for our country. Our freedom. Some make it home. Some don't. Some make it home, like Zac, only to find the memories of war are too much to bare. For all of their service and sacrifice, I am grateful.
Grateful for the opportunity to know a wonderful soldier, brother, friend, uncle...and to have pieces of him that let me know he's never far away.
Love and miss you Z.
