15 years later . . .

It's January of 2020.  Thomas has been gone over 15 years.   People born in 1984 are 35 or 36 by now, they've established their lives if all has gone well, or they are surveying the train wreck if it hasn't.  We Doerflingers have had a bumpy journey though all seems reasonably on track at the moment.  I try not to speculate about where Thomas would be if he had survived that day because there is no point and resisting that temptation to say "if only" is vital to everyone's mental health.

But it is not that we've forgotten or even that his fellow soldiers have forgotten.  My hope for those guys is that they will do the best they can to live lives that honor the sacrifices made for them, though I know that sometimes it is hard to find the way (and yes, I think Thomas would have loved "The Mandalorian").  For myself, it's been a little harder since moving to Washington state.  I'm a member of the Washington chapter of the American Gold Star Mothers now but we are a more diffuse bunch than our Maryland chapter.  In the last year I've gone to a meeting of a Quilts of Valor group that is very productive, then to a ceremony where four of their quilts were presented to World War II veterans ranging in age from 96 to 101.  The oldest vet insisted on walking home on his own.  And I've volunteered to visit a veteran locally since September--once a week I spend an hour or so at the home of this veteran and do a few tasks for him.  I've learned a lot of local history this way!

We move forward, we don't move on.  We have this burden that we carry every day:  it doesn't get lighter, but we get stronger.