Memorial Day

One of the things we haven't had a chance to buy is an American flag. I'm feeling a little sad about that today, Memorial Day. I don't have that outward sign, the sign that shows respect for those who have given their lives, through their military service.

I will miss the annual trip to the park in Lake City, MN, where we would hear from an active member of the military, a home-town hero, where we would sing songs, pray prayers, listen and learn. Where a community would gather to celebrate and mourn.

I will miss the trip to the cemeteries with my parents and siblings to visit the graves of my grandparents, none who died in war, but who, nonetheless were affected by war.

Though I am missing these things, I will still ponder the depth of loss that war causes. I will think about the greater affect as well as the personal effects of war....

I like to think that there were others, like spouses of those who serve, who also deserve this day. Their sacrifices, those who had to raise their children alone for a time or for a lifetime. Others, like those who took the jobs of the men during the wars, those who sacrificed by giving up some of what they needed, like rubber, so that the war effort could go on and be victorious.

I think of children who lost their parents because of war. Through battles and illness, through long hours working to support the war effort. Of medical staff who cared for those injured and dying in the places they served, in peace and in war.

And I am thankful, that those men closest to me, my father and my brothers, never saw combat, but would have done what they needed to do, if they had.

I think of my friend, whose father died in Vietnam, leaving a household of young children for her mom to raise. Of her mom, who always, after the day the officers came to her door with her children around her to tell them of her husband's death, would have a sitting room in her home, a place to have that conversation in private.

It is Memorial Day. I don't have a flag hanging on our new house, yet. But yesterday, I wore my dad's Episcopal service cross when I celebrated the Eucharist. I reminded the community to think of the cost of war, of those lives lost and we left our worship singing "God of Our Fathers."


God be with us all.