How it all began....

When I was eighteen, I told my mom and dad I did not want to go to college. I was tired of school and sick of living at home and I really wanted a good excuse to leave home. I remember picking up some information about joining the military from the guidance office at school and really thought long and hard about joining the Navy. I called the number on the brochure and it wasn't long after a recruiter was knocking at our door. I remember looking at him, inviting him in and asking him to have a seat in our living room while we finished dinner. I'm not sure what part he did not understand, as he came in and sat down at our table and started discussing my options.

At the time I was passionate about becoming a physical therapist and while he did not have the exact program for me he was encouraging a medical program. We talked at length and I decided my best route would be to join the naval reserves. I could go to school and serve my country. It seemed like a great idea, but it just didn't feel right. There was something I did not trust, or believe, and I was told the offer I was given would expire in three days.

Well, I didn't really care for the thought I had to make a life changing decision and had three days in which to decide- so I balked. I changed my mind and asked my parents if they would send me to Europe to become an exchange student. How the two are related I don't really know - I just knew Europe wasn't home! Instead of joining the navy (It's not a job, its an adventure) I went to live in Sweden for ten months and decided during my stay if was ever going to amount to anything, I'd have to go to school.

It wasn't soon after I got home from Sweden, Operation Desert Storm began. It hit me then, if I had joined the military, I would be headed to the Middle East. How different would my life be? I'd be nineteen and involved in war. I'd spend my free time in the student lounge watching the events of the war unfold, thanking God I didn't sign up on the promise of one weekend a month and two weeks a year.

Yet, what troubles me most, is I missed out on serving my country. I missed out because I was afraid to commit. I missed out because I wasn't strong enough. So. I never served my country and it bothers me. What I have decided to do, is the only thing I can think to do...fight the battle for our returning veterans. Fight to help them find their place in society, fight to help them obtain the benefits they deserve, fight to help them know and understand how valuable they are no matter what visible or invisible scars they have.

So this blog, will be dedicated to my feelings, my passions, my opinions about what needs to be done, what can be done and how we can change the world, one person at a time...