Ask me about my solider

When we were in central Florida, a lady came to our booth wearing a shirt that said, ask me about my soldier. So, I did. She spoke with pride and a little fear about her son who was preparing to go to the Middle East. We spoke of increasing our prayer life and him making it back home. The mother's heart is a tender and powerful thing. I thanked her for reminding me to pray for our soldiers. I woke up the next morning thinking about my soldiers. Phillip, my son-in-law who joined the army at 19(a baby).
We had to plan a wedding between boot-camp and AIT. I watched him grow from a so-so college student to a man ready to serve his country. He is a very motivated, and self-disciplined man who made the rank of Sargent in a very short time. Today, his friends still call him Sarge. He and Carrie served in Germany, where our first granddaughter was born. He went through a lot and we are so proud of our third son. I hope that Art and Pat do not mind sharing their soldier. My Uncle James. the Navy man of my youth. We would get letters from him from all over the world, and would visit him and his family when they were stationed close enough. He is in his 80's now and I still love to hear his stories. Stories about joining too young or refusing to serve on a boat that "that son of a gun who stole my first wife was on". He had the first tattoo that I had ever seen, and I loved to see him make a muscle to show it off. I always thought the only Navy guys had tattoos. My brother Hugh- when he joined, I cried myself to sleep. I could not imagine not seeing him every day. Oh, but when he would come home, he would hide , make me find him, and I would jump in his arms and give him a big hug. My big brother was home. My brother Jimmy was Command master chief of a nuclear submarine. He was the man. When he retired, he went back to college to be teach middle school. Middle school needs more men that would be willing to do that. I am very proud of him. My brother Glenn, always seem to serve in the coldest places. I never really understood what he did, but he always seem to be in remote places. Mom raised us like we twins because of being so close in age and size, (I was older, but he was bigger). We are still very close. Mark's Dad serve in WWII. The best of the best, who served in the South Pacific in close combat war where so many paid the ultimate price. Colonial Nagy, who looks like and Officer and a gentleman in uniform or Sunday school clothes, served, retired and now molds young people through ROTC. I really respect him. Many children that I watched grow up in Bible Drill, Sunday school, soccer fields and in my back yard with my children are now serving or have served and I am so proud of them. Mark and I try to shake hands with and thank every Vet that we see when we travel. At airports and cafe's, if Mark sees a soldier, he pays for their lunch or snack. A very small token for all that they do for us. As a nation we owe our soldiers so much.