Trying to finish unpacking from a recent move, I first came upon a box that held the last saved treasures of my past; my L.P.N. name tag from my first career as a nurse, the mouthpiece from the french horn I played from 3rd through 12th grade, (not my idea), an old small luggage lock with the key inserted, a small silver unicorn, the Indian nickel I had been looking for, some papers, a choker from when that was in style, (and might still be usable in certain situations), and the P.O.W bracelet I wore. Later while sorting through my picture boxes, I would find the letter that gave me the permission to remove that bracelet and put it away, realizing how much resolve, courage and resilience it took one individual in order to allow me to perform that one simple act.

Former POW honored for Vietnam War service (William Byrns)
It was late in the day, William Byrns sat in an old bomb crater, covered in leaves and mud from the surrounding Vietnamese jungle. Byrns clutched his radio tightly, waiting for a response. When the response finally came, it was not what he wanted to hear, “We can’t get you
