What if I told you I know a soldier who served their country for 30 years? What if I told you during this period a great war was raging and each year this veteran chose to go one more tour? One more tour. This soldier started fresh full of passion and determination. High ideals with great hope that this world would be a better place by keeping up the fight.
Year after year, day after day, this soldier pioneered on growing tired and weary but never giving up. No awards were given. No ceremonies. No badges. No other had taken this path because it was never recommended. It was a death wish. Five years tops they said and then get out. But oh no…not this soldier!
As the years past, this soldier gave more and more. Sweat, tears, love, money, and their health. Everything they had. Lied to, stolen from, yelled at, misunderstood,… but kept on giving. The body was no longer fit and trim. The mental health was fucked but they kept on giving. Along the way, love was lost and divorce came.
At the end of the war a small dinner was provided with beautiful words said, but this soldiers brother wanted more! The brother wanted the world to acknowledge this great hero!
What if I told you this soldier wasn’t a soldier in the sense of the military, but a soldier of life. A soldier as in a Special Needs(Ed) Teacher For 30 Years! This soldier is my sister Victoria Hyde. As I type, tears of love are flying. I so love my soldier and am so proud of her!
We often don’t see or hear about the everyday heroes in our life. We only see what’s right in front of us, judge, and never know of the journey along the way. The kids she’s helped, the Christmas presents given, supplies boughten, clothes boughten, love given…never to be heard of again. Many of these kids homes are broken…just a mess with very little help in improving. I can pretty much predict the school she taught at will not fill her shoes and for that I am sad. But who else would take on this feat?
If this was a military soldier and they came home, we’d have awards, speeches, standing ovations, and even a parade. We’d see how their service changed them physically and mentally and provide services to help them get better. We’d treat them with love and understand where they are now and how they got there. Articles would be plastered across the media and interviews would be requested. Instead, my hero went off quietly into the sunset to be near her sons. To rest. To regroup. I fear it may be too late.
This is my sister Vicky. I flew out a couple weeks ago to New York to help drive her 26 hours to Colorado. She is my hero and I wanted others to know. Who are the heroes in your life? We need to do a better job acknowledging the unseen heroes and give back to them!