Memorial Day
I've always loved this weekend.
When I was a kid there were barbecues each day and it was officially when the garden got planted.
A lot of work, ton of family time, plenty of beer, and three days off.
As a youngster we always went to the parade, and men from town, who we knew as friends of Mom and Dad were in uniform, saluting, marching.
They looked really serious.
Of course, as you age, you learn more about the sacrifices of those who went to war. Even those who came home were changed forever.
What strikes me about Memorial Day these days is that I understand that I didn't serve...
...never even considered doing that...
...and I feel a little guilty, honestly.
I sympathize with the men and women who were killed in wars that were a tad misguided.
But the kids who died in those wars weren't to blame for the decisions that were made to get them there.
I know one other thing to be certain:
If some of these people worked for another government in an effort to line their own pockets, they disgraced the memory of all who died for our freedom.
Let that sink in when you choose to excuse the already established proof or cooperation with Russia.
And so, on Memorial Day I feel indebted to those who gave their lives.
We are all enjoying the day off, to be sure, but a little of the time must be spent in admiration of what is most certainly bravery.
I couldn't imagine any of it, for me or my children.
Going off to war to fight for the freedoms we all enjoy...
...sad to say:
I wouldn't have been very good at all.
And what pains me even more?
The people who return are not actually treated very well.
They suffer.
They struggle to make ends meet.
They kill themselves.
And no matter how many patriotic songs we play, or how many times (when running for office) our politicians say:
"Nobody loves the vets more than me."
It's time to stand up for them.
And not vote to NOT help them.
They stood up for us...
...didn't they?
It seems that it's the least that those of us who didn't have the stomach for it can do.
I wish...that it was all different, but that's what the day is all about.
Remembering.
Appreciating.
And hoping and praying that the suffering ends.
When I was a kid there were barbecues each day and it was officially when the garden got planted.
A lot of work, ton of family time, plenty of beer, and three days off.
As a youngster we always went to the parade, and men from town, who we knew as friends of Mom and Dad were in uniform, saluting, marching.
They looked really serious.
Of course, as you age, you learn more about the sacrifices of those who went to war. Even those who came home were changed forever.
What strikes me about Memorial Day these days is that I understand that I didn't serve...
...never even considered doing that...
...and I feel a little guilty, honestly.
I sympathize with the men and women who were killed in wars that were a tad misguided.
But the kids who died in those wars weren't to blame for the decisions that were made to get them there.
I know one other thing to be certain:
If some of these people worked for another government in an effort to line their own pockets, they disgraced the memory of all who died for our freedom.
Let that sink in when you choose to excuse the already established proof or cooperation with Russia.
And so, on Memorial Day I feel indebted to those who gave their lives.
We are all enjoying the day off, to be sure, but a little of the time must be spent in admiration of what is most certainly bravery.
I couldn't imagine any of it, for me or my children.
Going off to war to fight for the freedoms we all enjoy...
...sad to say:
I wouldn't have been very good at all.
And what pains me even more?
The people who return are not actually treated very well.
They suffer.
They struggle to make ends meet.
They kill themselves.
And no matter how many patriotic songs we play, or how many times (when running for office) our politicians say:
"Nobody loves the vets more than me."
It's time to stand up for them.
And not vote to NOT help them.
They stood up for us...
...didn't they?
It seems that it's the least that those of us who didn't have the stomach for it can do.
I wish...that it was all different, but that's what the day is all about.
Remembering.
Appreciating.
And hoping and praying that the suffering ends.
Comments