“Happy Memorial Day.”
Whenever I hear that, it rings hollow for me. This isn’t a celebratory whoop-de-do sort of thing. At least it’s not supposed to be. While for many it heralds the unofficial start of the summer holiday — for families with any connection to the military it’s a weekend when it’s time to think about those who committed themselves to this nation and paid the ultimate price for it.
To be clear. I don’t come from a military family. One uncle was in the Navy in World War II. My dad was in the Navy … for a hot minute at the very end of the war, just in time for the war to end. My stepfather was a career military guy, but by the time he and my mom’s paths crossed, that life was long since over for him.
As the world slowly creeps back into life, watching people throng to the Fremont East District of downtown Las Vegas over the weekend has carried an array of feelings for me. Frustration at the utter lack of respect for people’s space, failure for most to wear masks, zero sense of social distancing and, if anything, something of a thumbing of the collective nose at the authorities they see infringing on their freedom.
The vast majority of those I encountered probably spent no more time connected to military than I have. The rights they so cavalierly throw about as being in jeopardy by governments that merely are trying to protect the population at large, and they do it on a weekend when they’re drinking and partying … the antithesis of remembrance.
So that’s what’s on my mind today. A day when, as usual, I wish that I could just be at peace like my dogs.
Today’s Gracious Gratitude. I am grateful for:
- My dogs
- My hand crank old school pencil sharpener
- Dixon Ticonderoga #2 pencils
- A fresh notebook
- Leftovers for lunch
- Working out and feeling my body stretch
- When friends use the audio message feature for texting