Memorial Day

May 30. Memorial Day festivities in Arlington. The kickoff of the summer season.  Barbecues, warm days, vacations, family time.

I grew up in North Grafton, Massachusetts, during the 1950’s. I can still remember the excitement that my friends and I felt as the parade stopped at Quinsigamond Corner where wreaths were laid and speeches given. We eagerly anticipated the 21-gun salute that the soldiers and veterans would fire. My buddies and I scrambled to see who could grab a spent shell casing—a treasure for any boy of that period.

Those were simpler times.

We now live in a much more complex world. Our country is truly a pluralistic society that is comprised of not only different nationalities, but different cultures, races, philosophies, and religions from all over the world.

And still our brave men and women in our armed services and diplomatic corps—those who feel the patriotic call—serve our country fighting wars and striving to bring peace in lands that most of us can't even begin to imagine, in cultures and mental atmospheres that we can barely conceive, and perhaps for reasons that some of us aren't sure of. 

Yet, they do it selflessly to protect and share the abundance of freedoms that we in the United States partake of every day. Freedoms that so many in the world still hunger for.

Is there an essence to all of our freedoms?  

For me, it’s the spiritually-inspired freedom to live in peace and harmony with each other—and all that implies. And with that freedom comes the responsibility—despite all of the divergent views, despite the vastness of individual political and social opinions, despite all the varieties of life-styles—that we must hold each other's right to “…life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness…” as sacred.

If not, we dishonor all who have sacrificed so much through all the conflicts that we have fought at home and abroad—something we dare not do.

Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae of the Canadian Army penned the stirring poem “In Flanders Fields” in 1915 after watching a comrade die the day before during World War I.  I quote the final stanza:

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

   The torch; be yours to hold it high.

   If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

         In Flanders fields.

Let’s not forget that the foe is not each other, but the thoughts—the evil—that would separate us from recognizing the brotherhood and sisterhood of all humanity.

Let’s not forget why this holiday exists.