I tie lots and lots of bows. Red ones, green ones, pink, and glittered. Tonight I tied yellow ribbons around my entire property, and that of my neighbor- mailboxes too. In honor of a fallen soldier- just 28 years old, from my town. I do not know him, I do not know his family- but their grief is our grief. I set out with three spools of ribbon (which being a bow girl, I had on hand), a pair of scissors, and my two sons. I did not anticipate the emotion that would overtake me as one boy held the scissors and the other the ribbon. Standing facing a massive pine tree, creating a double bow, I sobbed. This young man could be any of our sons. Our brother. Our neighbor. I just let the tears fall, as I am sure his family and friends are doing right now- saying goodbye to a true hero. I don't like war- I never will. However, the respect I have for those to chose to serve is mighty. As I tied those bows, I thought of my boys- and with the hope that by the time they are old enough there will be no need for yellow ribbons. Remember, friends, every fallen soldier is OURS. They died to protect me, my children, my freedom.
And I pray with all the hope and joy in my heart that truly, #lovewins.
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