Friday, May 27, 2005
I sent this to the writer, Ralph Kinney Bennett:
Thank you so much for your essay. It brought tears to my eyes.
"The crowd was so small last year."
I'll be visiting my grandfather this Monday, in a cemetary in Alexandria, VA. He died when I was only a year old. He served in WWII in the Merchant Marines, in both theaters. I'll be doubling the number of packages of books I send to current servicemembers, men and women I don't know. But I know how much I enjoy care packages; I can only imagine that being far from home mail is that much more magical.
I wish I could do more that visit graves, thank my uncles for serving, and send packages to strangers.
I can't do more. Time and money always get in the way. But I will try to do what I do more deliberately. And I will remember what the rough men and women have done so that I can sleep safe in my bed, not knowing the full extent of their experiences. I can offer my tears, my words of thanks, and care packages of reading material and the occasional email conversation.
Thank you. Your essay really touched me.