I am the One
You must read, from beginning to end, with Kleenex in hand.
Here's a tiny bit of what you will read, and if you're like me, will find yourself realizing that you too are "the one" in many cases.
I am the one.
I am the one that sent you to war.
I am the one who did not see, even during this time of relative peace, that the shadow of war was coming.
I am the one that believed, and still do, that we could not leave Iraq to fester in its terror and murder, to become like Afghanistan, forgotten and abandoned to those same forces that had already wrought such death and destruction.
I am the one that debated while you sacrificed, fought and sometimes bled in a theater of war whose value I questioned.
I am the one that did not pay attention to our veterans' care or the care that your wounded brothers and sisters were receiving. I am the one that did not ask what our government was doing for these deserving citizens of our nation. I am the one that thought that our nation would take care of them and did not worry or wonder after their care.
I am the one that has watched bad movies, read many books, stayed on the internet too late at night, ordered pizza to be delivered, driven to the store for a late night snack and, generally, done all of the things that I have always done here at home; the things that you cannot do, without giving you a thought.
I am the one that sent you those Christmas cookies that probably arrived there hard as a rock and as tasteless as cardboard.
I am the one that sat next to your wife in the restaurant, talking too loudly about the war, as if I knew anything really about it.
I am the one that had to turn away for a moment as his young wife cried and his family hugged each other. Not because I was embarrassed, but because I was ashamed that I had ever thought my own struggles and strife were so great or tragic. She will not remember me. I am the one that will remember her.
I AM THE ONE