How did I get here? Is this a celebration of sacrificial death or sacrificial death so we can celebrate? It’s a sacrifice I can’t forget — nor will I. But it seems, as I look around, it has been. Or was it ever known?
Is this country more interested in stimulating their own bodies than honoring the ones sacrificed for them? The media focus more on slander, banter, and parties. But why turn the child’s head to the blood — flood them with the horrible reality of our freedom?
Eat your hamburger and drink your drink. It was paid for. Hold them in your heart but celebrate your freedom. Remember all who gave it to you. I know I will.
Remember the men and women who hand their lives to strangers to live. Soldiers who die away from their home, their families.
Remember the pain endured by the brothers and sisters tossing and turning from the intrusive thoughts. Waiting for a phone call to hear their voice but also just to know they are alive — never to receive it.
Remember the men and woman whose life purpose was to give you that drink. Was it worth it? Did you give them a reason to earn it? Could you give them a moment?
Could you give a moment to send prayers and thoughts to the mothers and fathers who are left only with memories of their child — a child from infancy bound to serve a country because his life was bigger than he could imagine. A life so big it exploded.
Eyes full of tears — each one that rolls and falls representing a fallen soldier. They return home to their peaceful resting place. Peace is what they were fighting for.
So honor them — bow your head. It’s okay to celebrate but don’t forget what today means to those who are directly affected.