Opinion
Dawn Longie
Beyond ‘Thank You’: What Veterans Day Really Asks of All of Us
A military spouse calls for connection that goes deeper than gratitude
Nov 5, 2025
By Dawn Longie
Opinion Contributor
People have thanked my husband for his service—and they’ve thanked me, too, for the sacrifices I’ve made as his spouse. They mean well. But I sometimes wonder if they realize what they’re truly thanking me for. Most people are probably referring to the time apart—the deployments, the missed birthdays, the nights alone. And I suppose a simple “thank you” fits if that’s what they mean.
But that’s never been the sacrifice I’m considering on the darkest nights—when my head is bowed, praying for answers, for resources, for support that feels like it doesn’t exist unless you’re willing to risk everything and fight for your life.
I wonder what impact real connection and understanding would have—if people truly grasped what they were thanking us for.
There’s a book written about the Iraq deployment my husband served on—the missions, the losses, the faces of the men he served beside. It sits right there, printed, published, documented, and yet unseen. That’s how much of our nation views its veterans: the stories exist, but few take the time to learn them.
Because bringing someone home from war isn’t about distance or time. It’s about years of unspoken pain, late-night conversations that reopen old wounds, grieving what was lost, and, if you’re lucky and put in the work, the slow, stubborn growth that follows.
Over time, I’ve learned that gratitude without understanding doesn’t build connection—and healing isn’t possible without connection. Connection to ourselves, to our families, to our communities, and to the people who stand beside us.
Veterans Day was meant to build that very connection—to bridge the gap between those who served and those who were served. Yet every year it mostly brings the posts, the flags, and the words: “Thank you for your service.”
It’s kind. It’s respectful. It’s heartfelt. But after the hashtags fade, most of us go back to our lives unchanged.
This year, I want to ask something different.
For those who haven’t served
If you’re not sure where to start, there are programs that make it easier to learn. The Navigator Program through Veterans Navigation Network helps civilians understand veterans and their families in a real, informed way. It teaches people to see beyond the uniform and recognize the person, the pain, and the purpose behind it.
You can also take action by learning about the Veterans ACCESS Act—legislation that protects and expands community care for veterans, giving them the freedom to seek the help they need when and where they need it. Supporting policies like this is one of the most meaningful ways civilians can move from “thank you” to action.
But above all, and as simple as it sounds—talk to them. Start by asking about the people they served with—the ones they still call brothers and sisters, the ones they still carry in their hearts. Veterans don’t usually want to talk about themselves, but they’ll talk for hours about the men and women who stood beside them. That shift—from “what did you do?” to “who were you with?”—builds trust, and it opens the door to the kind of understanding that heals communities.
For the veterans
Talk. You used to wear patches that told everyone who you were, what you’d done, and what you were capable of. In the civilian world, we don’t have that. So you have to speak now—not for attention, but for connection. Start with each other. Reach out. Visit each other. Be awkward about it, be cringe if you have to—just be in contact.
If you don’t know where to start, check out Veterans Talking to Veterans (VTTV)—a peer-to-peer initiative that trains veterans to connect and coach one another through guided conversation, empathy, and trauma-informed understanding. Healing begins when veterans lead the way for each other — and when the rest of us create space for that healing to grow.
Bring that same leadership and honesty into your communities. You have so much to offer. The skills, discipline, and perspective you carry are exactly what our towns, schools, and workplaces need. Your experience is not a burden—it’s a gift, and it’s vital to building a stronger America.
Getting to know veterans again
Part of the problem is that the image of a “veteran” has gotten stuck in time. Too often, people picture an older man in a ball cap, trading stories about wars long past. That image is worthy of respect, but it isn’t the whole story.
Today’s veterans could be the mom in your child’s classroom, the young man coaching Little League, the nurse at your clinic, or the neighbor next door who never mentions his service. Many are millennials who carried our nation’s two longest conflicts—Iraq and Afghanistan—through twenty years of deployments and sacrifice. They’re still young, still raising families, still building lives.
If we want to truly honor them, we have to start seeing them clearly — not as charity cases or political props, but as leaders, innovators, and community builders whose experiences belong at the center of our national story.
And if you want to understand the deeper divide that exists between those who served and those who haven’t, start by reading Tribe by Sebastian Junger. It’s one of the best explanations I’ve seen of why that gap feels so wide — and how we can begin to close it.
A shared responsibility
Connection is the bridge between healing and growth. Veterans, families, and civilians all have a role to play in strengthening it.
As spouses and families, we’re part of that, too. We are the spearhead of mental health. That means leading with empathy, not silence. Talking about the hard things, even when it’s uncomfortable. Reminding our loved ones—and ourselves—that connection is how we survive.
The gap between veterans and civilians won’t close on its own. It closes when we start learning, listening, and living like their sacrifices—our sacrifices—are everyone’s responsibility.
So this Veterans Day, let’s go beyond gratitude.
Let’s learn, listen, lead, and heal — together.
Dawn Longie is a veteran spouse and advocate from Park City, Montana. Her writing focuses on leadership, accountability, and the values that keep veterans and their families thriving long after service ends.
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