Little Boy Blue

I have returned from Florida, where there was two days of sun in seven.
I found out when I got home that a Brother In Arms has died. It wasn't on the battle field, it was in a hospital room and the cause was heart failure. Amazing how such little things can end such big lives. So tomorrow I will dawn my Dress Blue Uniform and attend a full honors funeral. I got to thinking about this uniform earlier and I have worn it for many occasions. I wore it for one of the three happiest days of my life, my wedding, and now I will have worn it for one of the saddest days of life, a funeral. I have worn it for social functions where I pretended to be something I'm not and pretended to like all the people around me, and sometimes I didn't pretend to well and told them what was really on my mind. I've worn it for ceremonies that welcomed those newly joining and those that are retiring. No matter what the occasion, or who the person being honored or buried the only thing they all have in common is me and my Dress Blue Uniform. Some of the items of the uniform have been changed, (rank, ribbons, medals, badges) some remain the same, but the person inside it, both happy and sad, is me.
Now you may be asking yourself, "What's the point?" and if you are then to your query I say, "I have no damn clue." I don't know what that means. Maybe it's like a poem, each will take away your own meaning, maybe it's me rambling as I often do. I don't know and don't much care, because, after all, this is mine.

And for the record: I have not lost motivation. I do know what I want. And don't we all look for a better "deal" to better this thing called Life?