I am not quite sure how it even happened, but on Monday, I served as the guest speaker for the Jefferson County Veterans Association’s Veterans Day service at Friendship Park in Smithfield.

First of all, I was late in arriving. I walked in when the national anthem was playing. I was already a nervous wreck as it was and me trying to get there on time only made matters worse.

I have no idea how I got to be the speaker for this important occasion, but then again, I oftentimes find myself in situations that I never saw coming.

Everyone in attendance was so very kind to me. All of the veterans. All of the guests. They were genuinely thoughtful and each thanked me following my presentation.

It wasn’t much of a speech. As a matter of fact, I had written it only that morning. Generally, I love public speaking. However, this was something that was truly near to my heart, and I did not want to screw it up in anyway.

I was certain that what I had written would not be good enough. Not worthy enough on behalf of veterans. My words were sincere. They honestly came from my heart. But still, not good enough.

I was not expecting a large or even a medium-size crowd. Perhaps maybe 10 people I thought would be there. But approximately 50 people had showed up.

A small group compared to those I have spoken to in the past.

However, this group … this group was something special.

I had written what I wanted our veterans to know. Had I been able to spend more time on my speech, I am sure I could have done better. I could have said more. More of what I wanted. More of what I needed to tell them.

Today, I would like to share with you a little of what I wrote. I will not bore you with the entire speech. Besides, it would take up an entire page.

I just want other veterans who were not in attendance to know a little bit about what I think of them. Here is some of what I wrote …

I may be a writer. But when it comes to speaking about a subject of such importance, and one that is so close to my heart, for some reason … the words just don’t come.

I end up sitting and staring at a blank computer screen. Each and every time. And that is exactly what occurred this time, too.

I couldn’t find my voice.

My fingers couldn’t press the keys to type what my heart wanted to say to you today. Man has not yet created the words to convey to you exactly how appreciative I am for the paths every one of you chose to take in the one life for which you were given.

So, I walked away. Got up from my computer and told myself I would write this speech another day.

Well, the days came and went. The weeks came and went. A month passed by. And then two months.

It’s funny how quickly time passes the older we get. It’s the same clock hands going around and around. And yet, they seem to move more quickly as we age.

Before I realized it, it was Monday morning. Veterans Day.

And there sat my laptop. There sat that brightly-lit white screen. A blank page anxiously awaiting a simple keystroke in which to begin.

There were no more months, weeks, no more days left on the calendar. Mere hours remained before it was time for me to stand before you and tell you things you have probably already heard a hundred times before.

Isn’t it easy to talk about the things that don’t really matter? And oh, so difficult to discuss the important aspects of life? The things that matter most?

One thing that matters most to me .. are veterans.

There have been days when I have sat and written enough stories to fill pages of a newspaper. But finding the right words to talk about an issue such as this? Of such importance?

What could I possibly tell you today that you didn’t already know when you woke up this morning?

What type of presentation can I possibly stand here and give that would make you walk away with a more meaningful view of Veterans Day and what it represents?

The answer is nothing. There isn’t anything I can say to you right now to fully express what my heart wants you to know. No amount of words to tell you how I feel. I could speak for hours and still not have said what I want you to know. What I need for you to know.

Now, I have never served in the military. Nor am I very knowledgeable when it comes to knowing or understanding exactly what being a member of the armed forces entails.

I won’t pretend to. Because the only basic “training” I have ever done in my life was to be a single mother to my three boys.

And while I’ve often heard people say that being a mother or being a homemaker is the single-most difficult and thankless job there is … I beg to differ. Because I have walked in those shoes. And while it may be a challenging and unappreciated occupation, I truly believe there is another job far more difficult, far more thankless and far more unappreciated. And that is being either an active member or a veteran of the United States military.

I wish more people could fully comprehend what our veterans have done for this country. What you have done for us — the ones who have never served. The sacrifices which each and every one of you have made.

Now, whenever I hear the word “sacrifice,” I expand on that strong little nine-letter word. I ask myself questions about each of these men, each of these women. Because they didn’t just sacrifice. There is more to it than that.

I wonder just how many people did you have to walk away from and leave behind when you went into the military?

I ask myself how many children did you not get to hug and not get to kiss goodnight every day while you were gone?

How painful was it to have to say goodbye to your wife, to your husband, to your significant other and pray they didn’t see the sadness you felt when they looked into your eyes as you told them goodbye?

How saddened were your parents that you were leaving?

How frightened did you actually feel at the thought or the prospect of having to go to war and knowing you couldn’t let anyone else see that you were afraid?

How difficult was it to have to pull that trigger for the first time or any time after … knowing that even though what you were doing was right, even though what you were doing was a matter of self-defense, you understood somewhere deep inside that you were taking the life of another human being? No matter how horrible they were?

Sacrifice? I ask myself how did you muster the courage to forgo a simple, quiet life spent with loved ones and go into countries that hate us?

How did you find the strength to keep going day after day, year after year wondering if you would ever make it home? There is so much more to the word sacrifice.

But for everything you chose to give up and for every uneasy feeling you might have felt while serving, for everything you gave on behalf of the United States and its citizens … I thank you. I more than thank you.

No, I don’t know much about the life of someone who has served in our military. And I will never pretend to understand what they have been through. The things they have seen. The horrors they have perhaps witnessed.

But I do know what it is like to be the loved one of someone who has served.

I am the great-granddaughter of an Army soldier who fought in France during World War I. A man who became sick after becoming the victim of a gas attack, spending lots of time inside the Army hospital.

I am a granddaughter of a man who served in the Navy. Joining in 1941 at the age of 17. Just in time for World War II.

His stories were always humorous. My mother always tells me he made it seem as if the Navy was pretty much Disneyland. Any time my grandfather met someone, every time we would gather around the kitchen table for Sunday dinner, he would pose the question, “Did I ever tell you about the time I was in the Navy?” What I would give to here that phrase once again.

The only time my mother saw tears in his eyes was when he spoke of a shipmate of his who became very ill on their way back to the United States for the first time in months. He said his friend had died as they were making their way underneath the Golden Gate Bridge.

And it was then you could see that war truly does change everyone. Every veteran, at least.

His humorous stories were just that. Funny stories he told. Because even he could make World War II seem like a good time. It takes a special man to do that. I miss him greatly.

I am the daughter of a man who was in the 101st Airborne in Vietnam. My daddy died six years ago from the exposure of agent orange. You know, I used to get mad at my dad a lot when I was young.

My parents divorced when I was six. But back then, I didn’t understand. Most people didn’t understand.

War had changed him. Had made him into someone, who like too many others … made him someone else entirely.

When I became old enough, that misunderstanding turned to anger. I was mad that my dad had to endure years fighting in a war that no one can begin to understand … except for those who also went through it. I am mad that he had to suffer the rest of his life with the effects of that war … which ultimately changed him and every soldier who was fortunate enough to come home.

He never spoke of those times. I’m not sure he talked about it to anyone.

But I know he was heroic. I know you don’t earn bronze stars for valor and purple hearts for nothing.

And I am only aware of this because my mother told me. He was quiet about his life. At least he was to me. Maybe because it hurt too much. Maybe because he didn’t want to remember. Maybe because he felt he had to appear strong and as if nothing was bothering him. At least that’s what I’ve always believed.

I understand that war changes people. And it is hard, very hard, on the ones who love them.

I believe my dad loved me the best that he knew how after coming back from war.

I believe every soldier who returns from war still loves us. But sometimes, the way in which they love us has changed. Because they have changed. Because war changed them.

My youngest son, Noah, is currently serving his eighth year in the Air Force. TAC-P and working with the Army. Again, I will not pretend to understand just what he does. He doesn’t want his mom to worry. He is stationed in Poland and I miss him. Every day. He is my baby. My basic training. My world.

I may not know what it is like to have served in the military. But I do understand what it is like to be the loved one of someone who has served.

It is sleepness nights. Worrying and wondering the worst. It is praying harder than anything else you have ever prayed that they return safely and of sound mind and body.

I truly apologize for not having written a wonderful speech. Something from which you could perhaps take away something profound and memorable. I just couldn’t find the right words to express what I would have liked to have said to you today. What I would have liked for each and every one of you to know.

That there are people in this country like myself, who are extremely appreciative and very grateful for your willingness to fight for us. For every single one of your sacrifices. To protect us. To help us continue to remain free.

I hope that one day, someone will be able to come up with the word that will genuinely express what we feel in our hearts for our veterans. Because thank you will never be enough.