We are invisible. The silent minority. The chosen few, handpicked not by our peers but by ourselves. We stand in harm’s way of our own volition, motivated by the desire to right the wrongs, defend the defenseless, to hold the line against disorder and chaos. We have no need for compensation, our rewards will not come in this life. When our final moment is upon us, as the last warm breath escapes our lungs, we will know that we were just. As we lay, our eyes staring to the heavens our comfort will be in our honor. Our end is not an end, never final, never permanent. We will remain to guide those that follow. We will speak to them in unheard voices. We are immortal. Our spirit lives on through our deeds because we know that words without action mean nothing. We are sheepdogs, now and forever.
Happy Thanksgiving, TMS...will you be with family? Some turkey?
Are you settled in Arizona now?