It saddens me that so many think nothing more of Memorial Day than a day off work. So I wonder, why should it matter to remember the fallen, the brave who gave their lives in service to us? After all, they are gone and cannot reap the rewards of our gratitude. Just who is this holiday for?
I learned this morning that Decoration Day sprang, in 1865, from the deep gratitude of freed African slaves, who observed an annual remembrance at the graveyard of 257 Union soldiers in Charleston, South Carolina. In time, it became the day to remember all who died in military service in all conflicts─Memorial Day. Today it marks the unofficial beginning of summer and the blockbuster movie season with parades, fireworks, and the television broadcast of the Indianapolis 500. 146 years from the holiday’s inception, thankfully those parades also include moments of silence, spontaneous applause and standing ovations for the vets who march by.
I remember as a kid watching Memorial Day parades in my home town, even marching in them as a Boy Scout. I recall visiting my father’s grave, a vet who returned from World War II but died from a stroke when I was 12. Someone always placed a flag on his grave. I was too young to question who.
My brother and father both served, though both returned safely from war. I know Memorial Day mattered to them. The brotherhood forged in battle runs deeper than all friendships, and for my brother, Bill, volunteering at the VFW meant giving back, an expression of his gratitude and compassion that he never tired of. Army, Navy, Marines, regardless of how they served, he shared a comradery with all vets until cancer stole him in 2005. Dad died the year before my brother was drafted. They never had the chance to share the comradery.
To ignore the memory of the fallen is to ignore their sacrifice. We can’t thank them directly, but we need this day to remember that our freedom came with a cost. I’m no legalist and as guilty as anyone for getting excited about a three-day weekend ahead. But when I flip that steak on my BBQ, I hope I’ll remember the price that was paid for the freedom to do so.
Excellent, Bob! (The origin of Memorial Day ought to be taught in school.) Ah, to live in a world without wars! As Walt Whitman wrote, "My enemy is dead; a man divine as myself is dead." So long as we have flags, we'll have wars.
ReplyDeleteNext time I write something, it will be more upbeat! Meanwhile, keep it up!