Memorial Day
As we start off this three day weekend, we should all stop for a moment to reflect on the meaning of the holiday before firing up the grill for the cookout. I had an opportunity to visit Arlington National Cemetery a few years ago. As I stood on the hill by the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, I looked around and, as far as the eye could see, there were white marble grave markers. Many of these markers have been placed for men and women who served this country, came home, lived their lives with their families and, in the fullness of time, passed away, their grave site a gift of a grateful nation. However, there are so many that had their lives ripped from them in one violent instant, moving from life to death so quickly that they hardly knew it, leaving their loved ones to wonder why. Others died slowly on the battlefield, their life seeping from them as their blood stained the ground of a foreign nation. There are more than men and women buried here. There are hopes and dreams that never came to fruition, ambitions that were never realized.
Therefore, before we head out to have fun this weekend, we should whisper a simple "Thank You". Most of these people gave everything they had so we could remain safe to be with our families. They are continuing to do so everyday is Iraq, Afghanistan and other places where they go in harms way. Thank you all and be careful out there.
3 comments:
I can't imagine how over-powering being at Arlington must be.
This photo looks particularly eerie when looking at it in the dead, lifeless winter as they lie under the leafless brown dormant tree and a blanket of snow just one orderly soul buried next to the other.
I had the priviledge to stand in an airport line in Paris with around 50 American service men and womem as they waited to board flights to a place I would never wish to go.
I was overcome with emotion in their presence. I was humbled, awestruck, proud, sad, fearful and grateful... I was 35 years old and to me they looked like babies.
I still see some of their faces as I watch the news.
I know what you mean. I stood next to a female soldier at DFW Airport while she waited for her duffel. I noticed her 82nd Airborne shoulder patch. I told her it looked just like one I wore once, 40 years ago, another place, another war. I never went to Vietnam but knew many who did. We talked about how the locales had changed but not the dying. I wished her luck.
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