 During those experiences when lives are in peril, spirits and souls become
entwined in such a way as to mold into those person’s minds the essence of
oneness with a memory that will last a lifetime. Is it any wonder that those
who have had such experiences stand tall and proud as they remember and
mourn the loss of their comrades?
There are others, however, who may not understand the significance of such a
remembrance. To them it may be the sales at the local department stores, or
the parade on television. To some it may be that it is a holiday and a day
off from work to go to the beach or have a picnic. It may just simply be
another day on the calendar. To all of us it should be a day for honoring
all of those who have given their all to make our lives more free.
Decoration Day, it used to be called; as ladies organizations and
schoolchildren went out to the graves of fallen soldiers during the Civil
War. A long-standing tradition has been preserved and even codified now into
a Federal holiday.
Memorial Day is usually celebrated on the last Monday in May when friends
and family gather at a cemetery where their loved ones are buried to
remember them with love and reverence. At National Cemeteries throughout the
country there are remembrances of those who fought and died for freedom when
families and friends go to pay their respects. My mind is filled with
memories past when we visited the various cemeteries where our loved ones
were buried. We placed flowers on the graves and remembered the ones who
were buried there.
It is sometimes difficult to wrap our minds around a day like Memorial Day.
Although we have been fighting a war against terror and the men and women in
the armed forces are being constantly held up for us to show appreciation
toward, there is still something distant about what it means. We have a
tendency to compartmentalize our lives into neat little partitions that
allow us to arrange our days and lives into distinctly different blocks of
activities. We create separate emotions, feelings and values for each of the
activity blocks. Sunday morning is "church" time; the activity is to "go to
church." Monday through Friday from 9:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. is "work" time;
the activity is stuffed with "doing our job." We behave in the "expected"
ways that are dictated from the "activity block" in which we are engaged at
the time.
Memorial Day is sometimes relegated by some to be an activity locked in our
activity block labeled "Memorial Day." When the time comes we take it down
from our shelf of daily activities, take out the activity, dust it off since
it has been a year, and go through the expected motions so we can
conveniently repack that block of time at the end of the day. Expending the
least amount of effort we can, and getting it over with as quickly as
possible, we move on to our next activity block forgetting the substance of
the act in favor of the form.
Memorial Day should be different. Rather than unpacking the activity to
glibly move through it without thought, we might rather make a much richer
experience by really examining the circumstances and cost that surrounded
the life of that man or woman who paid the ultimate price to give us the
opportunity to create those activity blocks in the first place.
Those men who were caught in a cross-fire between sworn enemies who were
dropping mortar shells on their position creating a fire storm of molten
rock and phosphorus rain dropping death and terror on their heads continued
moving forward to establish a barrier against evil.
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 Those medics, nurses and doctors close to the 38th Parallel
continued their duties at the operating tables trying to save the
lives of soldiers wounded in battles gave their own lives in
America's struggle against communism.
Those young men who lay in the forest as the rain trickled down
their helmets trying to remain quiet as enemy "regulars" marched
down the trail beside their foliage cover caught sight that
culminated in a battle eventually won by the Americans, but not
without heavy causalities.
Those men and women who were weighted down with battle gear, in
desert heat reaching 110 degrees in the shade as they rode in their
vehicle across the sandy roads watched as eighty yards in front
another vehicle containing their friends suddenly explodes and
shoots straight up in the air in a ball of flame. With roads filled
with IEDs waiting to capture the unsuspecting vehicle, they each
continue on fulfilling their duty and chipping away at the forces of
evil headed by a dictator who has vowed to take away the freedom
from Americans whom he calls the "Great Satan."
What were those men and women thinking at those very moments? Did
they see the faces of their wives, kids, parents? Did they see their
high school friends they had just parted company with only a few
short months prior to their current experience. Were they terrified,
with hearts beating knowing that each breath might be their last?
Did some experience the loss of their closest comrade in arms taking
their last breath just inches away? The one thing each one had in
common: They were each giving their all for those back in the States
for them to be able to experience the freedom of never experiencing
what they were facing at that moment.
Freedom; it is such a word that stirs the heart, freedom. It seems
like Memorial Day and Freedom might be the same word. Without
Memorial Day, and the ones behind that Day, there would likely be no
freedom. We should never be so routine with our actions as to forget
the real meaning of Memorial Day and the freedom that has been given
to us by those who paid the price with their lives.
Memorial Day is a day to pause and think of all whose lives have
been given in sacrifice to ensure that our lives can remain free. I
have a picture in my living room, "Reflections", depicting an older
civilian who was a soldier in Vietnam, standing with outreached arm
with fingers touching the Wall with thousands of names. From inside
the wall two or three young fellow soldiers are standing with one
reaching up from inside the wall with outstretched arm touching the
fingers of the one standing outside the wall. From time to time I
stop and gaze at the picture and am emotionally touched at the
scene. The closeness to those with whom they shared the experience
is a powerful relationship.
So if you see someone pausing on the sidewalk, bowing his head for a
minute or two on that day, or someone looking up to a waving flag
for a moment, or a man removing his hat at the passing of the colors
during a parade you may be watching, just watch for a moment and
remember. What you may be witnessing is a person whose memory is
that of an exploding bomb, or a best friend’s life ebbing away as he
holds him in his arms, or a wife who has lost a husband, or the
child of a Mom who gave her best for the war effort back home, or a
woman who has gallantly fought in one of our more recent wars. But
as you watch, remember too, that all of those men and women who have
sacrificed their lives have done so in order to keep all of us free.
Our only true and just response to all of them, both fallen and
those still living, is, "Thanks for your service."
[By JIM KILLEBREW]
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