I don’t know what it is about Costco and meaningful lunches, but, man, do I have them there. Decided today I can’t walk into the place without waterproof mascara.
It started out just a regular post-shopping Costco snack with Haus and the boys. I saw an older gentlemen a couple tables over eating lunch with his wife and noticed the almost brand-new “Vietnam Veteran” hat he was wearing. Hmmm, I thought, as Haus savored a Costco polish sausage and the boys and I shared ice cream. Halfway through our meal, the veteran used the trash can right next to us to throw away his lunch waste. Without even really thinking about it, I turned to talk to him.
“Thank you so much for your service, Sir,” I said smiling. Haus looked up and piped in, “Hey boys, do you see that man? He’s a hero.” Bubba glanced up from his ice cream and I repeated, “Yep bud, that man fought in a war for us in Vietnam and he is a hero.” I noticed out of the corner of my eye that the veteran hadn’t moved since I thanked him. Looking back at him with Bubba, I saw tears in his eyes.
“It took me forty years to buy this hat,” he said as his eyes glistened behind thick glasses. ”I’ve never really been thanked before. Thank you for that today.” Just as I thought I was going to start bawling his wife came up behind us catching the last of the conversation.
“He served two years over there,” she said, “and I took our two little ones to Honolulu so he could see us on midtour.” She gazed at our boys and continued, “I was in the library in Honlulu when someone asked me why I was there and I told them we were waiting for Daddy to come back from the war. They responded, what war, and I tried to explain that he’d been fighting in Vietnam. They told me that that wasn’t a real war and said, right in front of my boys, that if my husband was dumb enough to fight over in Vietnam than he deserved to die there.” The humble Vietnam vet looked down and said, “Oh, you don’t have to tell that story, hon.”
I’d been trying to keep it together until that moment. Right in the middle of those silly white and red plastic Costco tables, I cried for them. Haus put an arm around me as they teared up too and I told them that we were so appreciative for their sacrifice. We made small talk about their two boys, now in their thirties, and as the conversation wrapped up waved as they headed out to the parking lot. I pulled myself together, turned to Haus, and said I couldn’t imagine if while I was deployed someone had told him that I deserved to die while serving our country.
It really was my first time thanking someone wearing one of those Vietnam Veteran caps, you know, the big black ones with gold writing. I don’t know why it’s taken me so long, but I tell you what, I’ll NEVER let the opportunity pass again. Thank God for their sacrifice and blessings to all the families that sacrificed for us during the Vietnam war. Do me a favor, and, if you see one, thank them too. Oh, don’t forget to have a kleenex handy!
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