Every year for the past three years, my wife and I have traveled to Washington D.C. With Memorial Day approaching, my mind returns to our nation’s capitol, specifically Arlington Cemetery. I’ve visited twice. Both times I was struck silent.
Row after row of crosses. Acre after acre of sacrifice. And what of the families left behind? No matter how much time passes, there’s still a hole in their lives that used to be filled by someone who was willing to stand up for an ideal when it really needed defending. When you realize what all those crosses represent, conversation is replaced by contemplation. Who were these men and women? What were their dreams? Who did they leave behind? Spouses…children…parents?
Along with our war dead, Arlington is the final resting place for many veterans who returned from a conflict alive and choose to be buried there upon their passing. There are funerals at Arlington 6 days a week all year long. They had 27 the day I toured. A horse-drawn caisson carrying a flag-draped coffin brings home the thought that freedom isn’t free. Even those who return pay a price…sometimes for years.
You don’t have to journey to Arlington to be reminded of the cost of our freedom. Many of you know that I like to run. My usual trek takes me through one of Gainesville’s treasures: the greenway from Wilshire Trails to Rock Creek Park. The latter is home to memorials dedicated to local folks who gave their lives in defense of our country. There are monuments to World War II, Korea, and Vietnam. As I pass these I always catch a name or two on the lists. I silently thank them. Sometimes I salute as I trot by.
I know that Memorial Day isn’t all about picnics and cookouts. It’s about remembering and honoring those who have paid the ultimate price for our freedom. But I think those things have a place in our observance. After all, didn’t they give their lives so we could enjoy ours? So on Memorial Day I’ll go to work glad that I am free to pursue the career of my choosing. I’ll go to the parade (hope you will too). Later we’ll cook out. I’ll likely enjoy a frosty brew wishing my dad was there to have one with me while sharing stories of his time in the Navy during World War II (and he had some great stories). I’ll do it all while being thankful that someone cared enough to make sure that I can enjoy such freedom every day.
The Eagles wrote a song just after 9/11 called “Hole in the World”. That must be what it felt like for these families when they learned their loved died in defense of liberty… what it still feels like today. A hole…a void…where there used to be life. Where there used to be so much potential now filled only by the crushing weight of emptiness.
I realize no one can fill that space. But this Memorial Day, I hope that through our participation in various events and our words, thoughts, and prayers, we can help shoulder the weight of that emptiness…if only for one day.
