We sat down next to a table full of them. I recognized them for what they were immediately. Emotion swelled in my chest.
Their caps gave them away more than anything. Proud badges worn as crowns, declaring their membership into a special society.
The conversation drifted from whom “we’ve lost”, to living wills, to so-and-so with Alzheimer’s, to what a great meeting they will have tomorrow night.
These men in the military caps, so much like my Grandad in his of red… I had to say something to them. I looked their way several times as they all got up and left. Finally, I made eye contact with the last as he came back from the trash bin.
“You know, the only thing wrong with this, is that I am about 67 years too old.”
I love flirty old men. Their confidence abounds.
“Hello!”, I smiled, “I want to thank you for your service.”
I told him quickly about my grandfather being in WW2. He told me he was a test pilot on the Bell Helicopter. I told him I thought that was amazing.
Because it is. Read about it here.
He smiled again and opened his wallet, handing me a business card. This card holds this mans pride and joy. Take some time and read his story. He deserves it.