The Captain and I were in a Nazi concentration camp. People were being shot. We were afraid to do anything, for fear of being shot too. But this wasn't the bad part, believe it or not. In the midst of the chaos, I felt something tug at the back of my shirt. I turned around to see Firstborn looking up at me, and my terror magnified by about a million percent. I pulled him close to me and wrapped myself around him, trying to protect him from the imminent danger. And then I woke up.
After the horror wore off, and the relief set in, I tried to forget that dream, but of course I couldn't. I always believe that my dreams mean something, even when they're insignificant. And I knew right away what the message was.
It's not all about me.
The Captain goes away a lot. Most of the time it's a course or an exercise. But we have something looming which I like to call "Next Year". He'll be away for much of the first half of the year on exercises meant to prepare him for the second half, which will be, of course, deployment. Like all military spouses in this position, I feel a sense of dread over this. The job is dangerous, and by letting him go, I risk the personal devastation of losing him and ending up raising 2 kids by myself. But I know, deep down, that it has to be done. The vivid memory of that dream reinforces this.
That terror I felt was actually felt by real human beings in real life during a real war. The good people of the world fought and either died, or spent the rest of their lives living with their memories of that conflict, to end it. People fought and died to preserve our way of life before that war, and they have fought for democracy in many conflicts since. The least we can do is continue to protect the freedom they've earned for us, and honour their sacrifice.
Please remember them today.