Cowboy Up

I am nearing 66 years old and I can count on my fingers the times I have cried since I have been an adult...and none of them were from physical pain..all from mental anguish..such as the deaths of my parents, a younger sister, a dog one time, and most recently when I thought I was gonna have to put down my Miss Sassie Poodle. But I cried today at my physical therapy session..but not from my pain. It was out of sorrow,pride, and in sympathy for one of the bravest young men I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. I'll call him Sgt Joe.

Sgt Joe is a Marine..a 12 year Marine and proud of it. He is also one of the unique of all military service men and women..he is an Explosive Ordinance Disposal Technician. For you non-military types, this is the guy with the know how and guts to disarm a bomb. Sgt Joe was in the process of disarming one of those ragheaded terrorist set roadside bombs in Iraq when the ragheads set it off. He survived..but with serious damage to his right arm and left hand as well as shrapnel in his legs.

Sgt Joe told me that within twenty minutes he was in a field hospital where they saved his life and within a couple of days he was in Germany on his way a Naval Hospital on the east coast where over a period of several months he underwent twelve different surgeries to put his right arm back together. He is now on convalescent leave in my area and undergoing physical therapy to regain the use of his right arm..from the shoulder down.

I had the great fortune to be sitting at the same therapy table with him this morning and to talk with him as we both grimaced and grinned as the therapists worked us over..and the grins were the grin and bear it type..except he had a hell of a lot more to bear than I did.

When he teared up his face was red from embarrassment but he never uttered a sound..except to apologize to the therapist and tell her to continue..and then I looked at the face of the therapist and she was openly crying..and I could not stop my own tears while I watched them.

Yes, tears of pride..pride in this young man and the country that bred him. And tears of sorrow..sorrow that he is having to suffer while there are those who call themselves Americans who do not and probably cannot appreciate what this Marine has done. And yes, my tears were also from sympathy..for Sgt Joe and for the therapist who was only doing what she had to do.

Afterwards I talked some with Sgt Joe. He told me his motivation for doing what he has to do to regain the use of his arm..if he can do so he can remain on active duty.
"I am a Marine," he told me. " It is what I do."

Just before I left I asked Sgt Joe if he was from Florida.."No," he said, " I'm from just outside of Ft Worth Texas."

"Figures," I told him as we shook left hands,"I saw you COWBOY UP! Thanks Marine." And he grinned.

And I had to leave before I started to tear up again.