Mom and I went to the WWII museum a few weeks ago....
and I am still reeling from it.
Anyone that knows me, knows that I have a deep affection for our military-
and a very deep soft spot for WWII.
We meet them- we thanked them-
we cried with them- we laughed with them-
we mourned our own loss and the loss of those around us.
Upon thanking them- we heard over and over again-
"I am no hero. I was just doing my job....don't forget those that didn't come home..."
My head and heart were about to burst at every turn.
the pictures....the sounds...the proof of the pain and sacrifice.
And then the creme de la creme....
A true Hero, a man that actually drove a Higgins boat, (as in D-Day.)
We waited, with baited breath, for his first hand memories of those days.
He slowly began speaking,
"Are you familiar with the history of the bikini?"
Ummmm, no. No we are not.
Well, have no fear, our hero came through for us again.....
not just with information, he had a book of pictures.
Then we drowned our sorrows in beignets....
because....duh.
There is no question they were our greatest generation.
When given the opportunity to brag on their service....they humbly pass it on to others who sacrificed it all...and in some cases, even use the opportunity to discuss fashion.
They make me happy.
They make me proud.
They made us free.
"There is not greater way to love than to give your life for your friends." ~John 15:13
I have no question they are resting, laughing dancing and
possibly even talking about bikinis with God Himself.
Thank You especially for my Granddaddy Con Mims, Jr. who gave it all.
In His Dust,
DCC
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