Always trying to be aware of my surroundings, I noticed an old man next to me putting gas in his car. He had to be a 100. I observed him slightly bent over and wearing clothes that old men wear with dark sensible shoes. He was also wearing a ball cap with the Marine eagle/anchor on it. His license plate noted that he was a veteran and was awarded a purple heart.
Over whelmed by emotion and compelled by my heart, I stopped washing my windows for a minute and approached him. I stuck out my hand and said "Sir, I don't know you, but I see you proudly served our country and I just want to tell you thank you and I appreciate your sacrifice."
He gently took my hand and then grasped the other side of it with his other hand. You can tell a lot about people by their hands and as I looked down at his...old, wrinkled and worn, but not worn out completely...I was wondering if he even heard me as old as he was. He studied my face for a full minute and then he spoke. He told me he hadn't heard that in a long time and thanked me. I told him no thanks was needed on his part and further added that our great country was built by the blood, sweat, and tears of good men like him and we owe them a huge debt of gratitude. He just smiled an old man smile and tilted his head to the side and said "that's good to know." He seemed half choked up when he said it and I could have sworn there was much more he wanted to say...which I would have gladly listened to. He straightened his posture, held his head high and managed a solid, dignified "Semper Fi" and then slowly turned around and got back into his car.
When I returned to my car, Sophie asked who that old man was that I was talking to. I told her he was an American hero. She looked at me funny, crinkled her nose up, and then wanted to know if he could fly....I told her "I think so."
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