Today I had planned to post something funny about deployment checklists.  Then yesterday, my Facebook feed changed.  And Regimental crests with black bands replaced profile pictures as the tributes started.  There were meet ups for drinks and quiet beers at homes and bars across the country where glasses clinked  and memories spilled into the silence. Where soldiers sat and processed what it feels like when the goodbye comes suddenly and long after the firefight.     I came home late from work and Dh had our dehumidifier in pieces on the counter, focused purposely intently on the job in front of him. I walked up silently and hugged him and he shrugged away.  “not until the kids are in bed.”  When the house was quiet we opened a couple drinks and sat on the couch, giving a wordless toast in front of mindless TV that served as a distraction from all the “if only I…”   This isn’t the first time.  There’s a lot of yellow ribbons out there.  Far more so when we are fighting, even among those who argue the latest wars there are few who would say they don’t support our troops.  Since the beginning of the war in 2002, more Canadian Forces personnel have died at their own hand than were killed in combat.  We are quick to respond to the death of those in the line duty -whether they be military, police, firefighters, paramedics, etc – with pretty ribbons on our cars and our clothes and our social media.  And that’s sometimes the best way we can see in grief to show our loss is felt. I challenge myself and anyone else to put our money where our ribbons are.  And our time.  And…