The sun woke me up this morning. That, and the sound of a Nepalese man shouting. Despite being quarter to six in the morning, it wasn't exactly a bad way to wake up.

Today, there was bacon for breakfast. Today, I bought some skittles. Today, I spent an exorbitant amount of time shaking the hands of veterans out in the pouring rain until my face started turning blue. Today, was the dedication of the light infantry memorial at the national arboretum. Today, I decided to find a name on the armed forces memorial. Today, we went to KFC on the way home.

I don't know how I should be feeling right now.

I've never met the man who's name I found on the memorial. In fact, he died 11 years before I was born. But he saved the life of a friend of mine. Does that make us somehow connected? Should I be mournful, or sad? Or should I be proud? Thankful? Am I suddenly more enlightened now I've spent ten minutes reading the names on the only section of the memorial where deaths under the heading of "Navy" outweighed the number of those under "Army"?

Or am I just reading far too much into this?
I suppose the question on my mind is "When is a name, just a name?"

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