I Hate Funerals

Call it denial, not getting closure and I say whatever.  If I went to every SEAL or SOF brothers funeral that I’ve lost, I’d lose months of my year and precious time lost with my own children (one of whom was born when I was in Afghanistan).  Don’t ask about them because there’s too many creeps out there and I keep a pretty tight lid on my amazing kids.

Hating funerals comes with a price though.  I’ve actually been yelled at by former teammates: “What kind of friend are you! You didn’t even show up to (insert fallen SEALs name) funeral! Now you’re writing about it?!”

I’ve paid my fucking dues gents and I’m sure my friends and former teammates will appreciate my absence and one less grown man crying at their service.  You try holding back tears when a five year old boy tugs at your uniform pants and asks you where his dad is. Fuck me.

Instead I’ll choose to remember my buddies quietly and deal with things my own way.  Usually it’s tipping a good single malt scotch skyward with a “see you on the other side”…. Then I work on capturing their stories and sharing them.   That and I donate and help the SOF charities as much as I can.