I have a tendency to be a nice person. Call it a weakness, if you will; I can’t seem to help myself at times. That being the case, I typically choose the agreeable side of an argument, often grant the benefit of the doubt, and frequently attempt to bridge the gap in communication that derails even the most mundane of conversations. When I find myself being more direct in how I communicate things, I’m careful to ensure that I’m articulating the actual matter at hand and not interjecting my own thoughts, opinions, or feelings. Thus my Facebook posts are generally more polite, understanding, and considerate. I’m going to do my best in this blog to remove those self-imposed boundaries and state truth as I see it.
Memorial Day is a solemn holiday intended to preserve the memory of those who have died while in active military service to the United States. It is anything but a happy, festive day. Our country recovered from a nasty, bitter war that pitted brother against brother. We came through that and were once again unified, but not without the pain of knowing what we had done to ourselves. In an attempt to never forget the lives that were lost, we designated one day per year that we would choose to remember those that died in our Civil War. It is that remembering, I believe, that maintained the unity in our country for the century that followed. By remembering the sacrifices that were made, we are continuously aware of the ugliness that is war, of the disgusting nature of combat, and of the blood that had been shed on our very own soil which made us the country we are today. It is that reminder that we carry on throughout history, as we’ve expanded the observation of Memorial Day to include every war we have been involved in since the Civil War.
Memorial Day is not a sad day, but it is a very necessary day. It is necessary for America because there are those who live every day with the memory of a loved one who was lost, and there are those who live every other day with no conscious thought to the sacrifices that were made in their stead. By having a set aside day, we all come under one accord and level the playing field, if you will. It gives those who grieve the necessary accompaniment to bear their grief. And it gives those who rejoice the grounded foundation with which to accurately appreciate the freedoms they enjoy. But most importantly, it reminds us, as a country, of what our country could become if not protected from within.
I’m embarrassed for someone when I hear them wish someone else a happy Memorial Day, because it shows their ignorance (or is it lack of proper education?) of the origin. The same goes for when people thank me for my service in the military on Memorial Day (or any day, for that matter; but that’s a personal peeve). There is no “service” that any living person has given that should be thanked on Memorial Day. Doing so cheapens the deaths that are to be memorialized. But, being my polite self, I don’t typically say such things in person. It’s too easy for people to write me off as rude. So I politely smile, nod, and move on with my life.
It worries me somewhat that Americans have forgotten what Memorial Day is about. The very fact that we are forgetting our special day of remembrance is a sign that we are on the path of repeating our history. I see warning signs of an impending civil war in our own society, as the “war on the middle class” clashes with the “war against poverty” and other types of “class warfare.” I’m afraid that our next civil war won’t be as neat and clean, divided by geographical lines and different color coats. I’m concerned that my children may have to experience an America torn apart from the inside, ripped not only at the seams, but at every stitch of thread that holds the fabric together. We’re allowing talking heads in a box to tell us what we want, how to think, where to go, and who to love. This is a very sad time.
This Memorial Day, I’d like to encourage America to remember the Civil War. Since you’re off of work anyway, spend about 30 minutes researching what brought it about, how it started, how it was fought, and how it ended. You may be surprised to find that it’s not what you were taught in the history books, and slavery had very little to do with it (if anything). As George Santayana (1863-1952) said: “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”
My memories will be centered around my brother, Nicholas, whom I lost 3 years ago on June 7th. He was a great brother, father, son, husband, uncle, and Christ-follower. He was my very first friend, and much of what I’ve accomplished in my life has been either in competition with him, in spite of him, in following him, or in fighting him. I couldn’t have had a better role model for nearly 28 years of my life. One major lesson I learned from his death is that memories can be easily forgotten when they’re not actively recounted. Make an effort this Memorial Day to actively recount the significant memories not only in your life, but in this brief life our country has lived.
The Imperfect View 