Some thoughts on Memorial Day

I try to stay away from being too serious when I post here. I can post about serious things, but, in general, I like to think that I can post serious things in a light-hearted way. But here we are, Memorial Day, and I see and hear people around me being concerned about last day of school bussing and cookouts and rain, rather than on what the day is supposed to reflect. Sacrifice. Love for country. Preservation of tradition and ideals.

Maybe I was lucky. I was raised with a strong connection to history. My dad was an Army staff sergeant. I spent my early life on an Army base. Even after he left the army, I grew up with "drilling" in the backyard, learned military marching songs the way other children learned "Old Macdonald," and toured West Point when I was old enough to understand it. When I look back at family vacations, I can see how we were given a look at history during so many of them: visiting John F. Kennedy's grave and the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier during our trip to Washington, D.C, visiting Gettysburg, visiting Boston and learning the reality of Paul Revere's ride. My dad never let us forget that our generation--my younger brother being born during the penultimate "Boomer" year--owed a lot to previous generations. We had a lot to live up to and a lot to pass on to our descendants.

As a child, I never made the connection between these patriotic sites and the beliefs of the men (and, sometimes, women) who gave their lives. That understanding didn't come until later, after I'd packed my band uniform away and started working in nursing homes. Talk about an eye opener!

But, through it all, I was privileged to still have my father. He was one of the lucky ones, who never went to Vietnam. He served at home, at Fort Bragg, where he never had to worry about officers walking up to our front door to give my mother solemn news. My parents were flawed human beings--aren't we all?--but I'm grateful that war never took my father from me.

I think that's what we need to remember on Memorial Day. It doesn't matter if you agree with anyone's politics or think that war is stupid. Take it from me. I think that war IS stupid, but that doesn't change the fact that there were people brave enough to serve. Those flags on those graves represent a person who believed enough in the nation and the people who live in it to walk away from everything. People who died for their beliefs. We should never forget that. We don't have to agree with what they did, but they did something that not too many people can do.

Memorial Day is a day for memories. It's a day to respect the memories of the fallen, who gave their lives for ideals that we no longer seem to understand. It's a day to remember that freedom isn't free. It came to us with the sacrifices, not only those of the people who died, but also of their families and loved ones, who had to let them go too soon. It's not necessary to agree with everything that Memorial Day represents. You can disagree with the wars themselves or feel that they made the wrong decision, but please, take a moment to honor their sacrifice. Let's all enjoy our barbeque and our parades and our three-day weekends, but let's also take a minute to remember those who made those things possible--and necessary.

To all my friends and readers: I am sorry about the serious tone of this piece, but I've been thinking about it a lot--and it means a lot to me. I promise that I will be back to my normal self the next time I post. In the meantime: we're having pulled pork barbeque, potato salad, green salad, and huckleberry cobbler. How about you?

Have a safe and blessed Memorial Day!