Today I sold a car to a young military man who is deploying tomorrow morning. He wanted something safe for his mom to drive until his return in six months. She will be staying with his daughters, 7 and 11 years old. He’s been home only eight weeks.
God bless the grandmothers.
My friends wonder how I am able to do this job. The reasons change from day to day, hour to hour. But this particular morning it is men like this that compel me to show up: his earnestness, efficiency, and his unflinching commitment to family and country. It’s the very least I can do to help him find a safe vehicle his babies and mother as quickly and painlessly as possible. As we chatted, my heart was heavy for his mother I made her laugh while sensing the unspoken terror of watching her baby, a part of her body, her very heart, leave for dangerous regions unknown to her. And he does so without complaint. Politics pale in the face of the human pain of war.
God bless the mothers and the grandmothers.
LAFF
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