One week ago today you, the rest of your SEAL team, and the the other American servicemen riding with you were killed when your helicopter was shot down in Afghanistan. Seeing your name on the list that was introduced by Brian Williams last night on the Nightly News somehow makes your loss real to me now, and painfully so. I respect your decision to remain anonymous, even in death, but I can't say that decision makes it easy for those of us left who mourn you, who miss you. And this hurts.
I guess a part of me was hoping that they had made a mistake; that, like so many countless times that we will never have the security clearance to know about, you somehow pulled it off, somehow came back to us. Seeing that list last night made it clear to me that they were right, and that the part of me that foolishly held onto hope, however irrational that hope might have been, was wrong. And this hurts.
We will all miss you, in our own ways. Old friends, and family, will miss the crazy times that were; the funny expressions, the hilarious things that used to escape your mouth, yet somehow made sense. And we will, all of us, miss the crazy times that were yet to come, as we watched a new generation, made by us, as it took our place. Parents will miss their son. A daughter will miss her father. A wife will miss her husband, and best friend. We all will miss you, our best friend. And this hurts.
The people of a country who will never know the debt we owe you, and the rest of the members of your team, will miss you. Even if the names that flashed on the television screen last night had no direct connection to those watching, that connection to your country, and the debt it owes you, is unmistakable. But there IS a direct connection; for me, and for so many of us, and I don't know how we are supposed to let go of it. And, quite simply, this hurts.
I am, we are all, proud, and honored, to be able to call you "friend," "countryman," "soldier." Thank you for your friendship, your service, your sacrifice. It has been my honor, and my privilege.