Thank you.

Last weekend we got the news that one of the members from our Chapel congregation (the one Bryan preaches at on base) was receiving hospice care. Wednesday morning, right when we woke up, we got the call that he had passed away.

I didn't know the Colonel very well. I know he was a Marine. I know he served in WWII at the Battle of Iwo Jima. I know he received a Purple Heart. I know he always complimented Bryan when he got a hair cut... he liked it high and tight. I know he believed in the power of Jesus, which causes me to rejoice knowing that we will see him again.

But I'm incredibly sad right now. I'm sad because he was such a nice man. He was a joy to speak with, even if I had to remind him of my name and that I was Bryan's wife whenever I saw him. He loved the kids... they made him smile.

What really makes me sad is that he was all alone in this world. He was in his nineties and didn't have any relatives or friends outside of the handful of retirees that attend chapel because, well, he had outlived everyone. It makes me sad that there was so much I didn't know about him, like that we both come from Ohio, which I found out when I read his obituary.

This man, who sacrificed so much for our country, for our freedoms, and when it comes time for his funeral, there will only be a few people there to tell him thank you. He was a good man. I wish there were more people who would be there to thank him and send him on his way.

Thankfully, the Colonel is in a much better place. He's no longer on morphine to fight the pain. He's no longer strapped to that wheelchair. But I bet he's still sporting a high and tight hair cut. I don't think even Jesus could talk him out of that one!

So, I just want to say thank you, Colonel, for all you've done for me. We will miss you, but we'll see you again one day.