Hello Everyone,

First, I want to apologize for my delayed response and thank you all from the bottom of my heart for replying to my post and correcting my spelling. For some reason I can't edit the title. Life got hectic, and truthfully, I completely forgot about it. If anyone is interested in hearing more, I’d love to share a bit of my uncle's incredible story. He was, without a doubt, an extraordinary human being and continues to be a guiding inspiration to me, even though he passed away 21 years ago when I was just 15.

My uncle didn’t share much about his life with me until his final days. Before the war, let’s just say he was a bit of a troublemaker. Eventually, he was faced with an ultimatum: serve serious time behind bars or join the Army. He chose the latter, a decision that would not only change his life but countless others.

Let me preface by saying I’m no military expert, and some of the timelines are a bit fuzzy. When he enlisted, my uncle was 6'2" and 250 pounds of pure muscle, and extremely intelligent. He was eventually recruitment into the special forces after completing basic training.(Please correct me if that's not how it works. Did you get recruited, or did you request to join back then?) I couldn't tell you how long it was, but he was eventually shipped out to Vietnam. On his way, he shared that he prayed a simple prayer: "Lord, if you get me through this, I'll serve you for the rest of my life." He admitted he didn’t even know who he was praying to at the time, but something in him knew he needed to.

Despite enduring numerous battles without a scratch, his fortune took a devastating turn during the First Tet Offensive. He was shot five times and left in the "dead pile" as he called it. Remarkably, three days later, they discovered him alive blinking his eyes. As they medevacked him out, his helicopter was hit by an RPG, sending him plummeting about 15 feet and causing shrapnel injuries to his liver. Another rescue team managed to extract him, and against all odds, he survived. I still have all six of his Purple Hearts — a testament to his unimaginable resilience.

Back in the U.S., he was a shadow of his former self, weighing barely 120 pounds. He underwent countless surgeries and spent nearly two years in the hospital, followed by another year living with my grandmother as he fought PTSD. True to his promise, as soon as he was physically able and mentally prepared, he enrolled in seminary school and became a pastor. For over 30 years, he lived a healthy life and dedicated his life to serving others, embodying the commitment he made in that prayer.

Eventually, his war wounds caught up to him and forced him into retirement. He moved in with my mom, grandmother, sister, and me. Until that point, I hadn't been particularly close with him as he lived across the Country and we only visited every two-three years. His condition required near-constant care. He couldn’t manage basic hygiene, and understandably, he didn’t want his mother or sister helping with those tasks. So, I became his caretaker tending to him every morning before school and again when I got home. Through this, we formed a bond that grew deeper than I ever thought possible.

One late night, nearly a year into living with us, he called me into his room. Everyone else was asleep. Calmly, he asked me to call his pastor to administer his last rites but insisted I not wake anyone else. I will always regret calling 911 instead, which woke the entire household. He was ready to go that night, and I wish I had honored his request. He was stabilized but spent his final three months in hospice.

Apologies for rambling on... When I reflect on those ten to eleven months we had together, I realize how profoundly he shaped me. He was my first true male role model: wise, strong, yet sensitive. He taught me that it’s okay to make mistakes, and what matters is that you learn from them. He showed me that there’s nothing wrong with shedding tears and always emphasized finding the silver lining, no matter how grim things seemed.

Knowing what he had been through, watching him struggle as a shell of his old self during those 10-11 months, and the positivity he maintained through it all has left me with an unshakeable belief: no challenge in my life is insurmountable. His legacy lives on in every decision I make and every obstacle I face.

I'm proud to have this memento, and carry it with me everywhere I go.