In case you didn’t know, May is military appreciation month. GallantFew had been posting on Instragram throughout the month a few simple, but thoughtful words, “Live A Life Worthy Of Their Sacrifice.” These words resonated with me. I think a lot of us are very self-aware of the life we lead; with our actions and words we use everyday. I’m especially conscious of it now having children.
Each time I saw these words this month I couldn’t help but take a deeper reflection on them. Yes, I’m so thankful for all of the generations of brave men and women who came before us to afford us the freedom’s we have today. I couldn’t help but think about my grandparents as well and how their sacrifices later impacted me, and my family.
Every Memorial Day my mother makes a point of driving to her parent’s resting place, which is about a 90 minute drive for her. She visits them throughout the year when she’s in area to visit her siblings, but she also makes a special trip for them on Memorial Day. Her parents fled Ukraine during WWII. Crazy, interesting fact about my mother – she was born in July 1945, in Germany! Can you imagine being pregnant, crossing war torn countries and giving birth in a post-war displaced persons camp?! Being pregnant in Riyadh is nothing. The relief my grandmother must have felt to have at least delivered my mother after the war was over. Sadly, my grandmother left her children from her previous marriage in Ukraine. I’m not sure if the intent was to eventually send for the children once they got to the US, but she never saw them again and my mother has never met them. I can’t imagine the things my grandparents saw and experienced along the way. They eventually had two more children, a girl and a boy, while waiting in Germany to get out. They were determined to make a better life for their family and eventually made their way to Ellis Island a few years later. They settled in northern Ohio. Their son later served in the Army during Vietnam. Even though I never met my grandparents, as the passed away before I was born, I’m often told stories about them. They’ve left a lasting impression on me. I’m in awe of what they went through and honored to call them mine.
My father’s parent’s emigration from Mexico wasn’t nearly as dramatic a story, but the end goal was the same – to make a better life for their family. They initially made the move to the Texas border. My grandfather, being the entrepreneurial person he was saw opportunity and brought workers north to the Midwest every summer to work in the fields. Eventually, he brought the rest of the family and they settled in southern Michigan. During WWII my grandfather worked in a factory that manufactured parts for Air Force bomber planes which he was very proud of. I have so many fond memories of my grandparents. We talk about them fondly and often. I learned a lot from them and I’m still learning from them when I think back on my memories of them. My grandparents had six children, five boys and one girl. Three of their sons served in the Marines and Army during Vietnam, and a handful of grandsons who later served in various branches of the military. Anyone who is close to me knows my brother’s military path.
My brother’s last deployment was a particularly tough one and he subsequently suffered from PTSD. He’s really open about his struggle and what brought him out of it – physically activity. He’s always been fit and active, but going for runs during the worst of his PTSD was difficult for him. He knew it was the work he needed to do for himself though. Soon after I moved back from London he recruited me for our first Tough Mudder and there was no way I was going to say no. Knowing what he was going through, I felt the need to make a symbolic gesture of solidarity. This was the reason I seriously started running and working out regularly, then later recruited by a colleague in Chicago to join Team RWB. Their mission, “to enrich the lives of America’s veterans by connecting them to their community through physical and social activity” meant a lot to me and was something I could easily give my time to. Coincidentally, if it weren’t for my brother’s path, me joining Team RWB and running that Ragnar Relay I probably never would have met J. Crazy, huh?
My involvement with Team RWB and my running was for my brother, and all of the other people who had been going though their own personal struggle. Anytime I wanted to stop running because I had a horrible side stitch I thought of him and all of the things he’d been through, whether it was physically and mentally during Ranger school or during that last Iraq deployment. The pain I was dealing with in that moment paled in comparison, so I’d suck it up and run through it.
I have lived a very, very good life. I’ve been able to do things some people only dream of. Sure there have been some challenges along the way, but nothing compared to what others have faced. It’s part of the reason I started “More Sweet than Bitter”. Those words perfectly sum up these experiences. I know I’m fortunate and I thank God everyday. This month when I thought more about the sacrifices my family had made over decades, I couldn’t help but connect them all and these people made me who I am today. So to honor them this month, this day, and for years to come I will to do my best to live a life worthy of their sacrifices...and be sure tell our children all about them.