Soon we will all go home.
Back to our busy lives, and wives and husbands, partners and solo existences.
Back to our routines, and bills, and grocery shopping…what to eat on our minds as we walk in the front door, after a long day…of a very different kind of work.
We will tell stories of our time here, to family and friends. People we know will say, “You’re such an angel/hero”, or some such thing.
But we all know the truth.
We here all know that the true heroes are the people who allowed us into their homes and facilities, who allowed us to cut and haul trees from yards, gardens and driveways, cutting them down to size. Hauling out ruined insulation from crawl spaces.
Who believed in our organization enough to say, come and be a part of our survival. Bear witness to our strength.
We, who laughed, and swore, and hugged, and sweated, and pushed ourselves to “get shit done,” maybe even shed a tear or two.
Yes, dear Virginia… Soldiers do cry. And so do Marines, and Airmen, and Sailors and Coasties…and First Responders of all types, and even Civilians with hearts of mettle.
These people standing with you at this moment have borne witness to your ability to take in the pain and hope of this community, and to receive their pain with grace, and stoke their fires of hope.
We have seen that our perfection is not needed, just our willingness to be Do-ers.
And once you leave all this behind you…there will be moments that come up in your mind, again and again. Moments that stretch your heart and say, “THAT’S why.”
Some will feel like you could never forget them. Ever ever.
But, over time, there will be the business of life. It will surround you like a new blanket, dampening some of these people’s faces you see here today. Names might leave you. Details may blend together.
You may get to a day where you wonder how these moments feel so far away from you, when they used to be so fresh. So vibrant.
And I want you to consider one small thing:
That nothing has left you. Nothing has been forgotten.
It has been soaked up and absorbed into you. It is you, now and for every day you move forward away from this place.
The soul of this community is now your soul. It is you. And to these people who may never know your name, you are also them. Their story. Their hope. Their thing that made them remember why humanity is so beautiful, even in their most painful moments.
