Monday, May 26, 2008
The last day of a 3-day weekend; the official start of summer; the weekend many Americans kill themselves on the highway, too drunk to see straight at the wheel. Picnics, baseball, barbeques. Family gatherings. Gatherings of friends. Party, party, party.
Or, honoring our soldiers who have fallen in various wars. From the Minute Men who fought the Revolutionary War; the soldiers, North and South, who fought over the Union of North & South; the soldiers who died in the trenches of both World Wars; the soldiers who died in Korea; in Viet Nam; in the Gulf; in Iraq; in Afghanistan.
It is not the soldiers who I have issue with. It is those people in the highest offices who believe that war is ever a solution. They send young men and women to fight THEIR fight, while they sit behind their desks, guarded and separated from the wishes of their people. Our soldiers are brave, and risk their lives for the hubris of others.
My son-in-law never knew his father. His father was MIA in Vietnam, and eventually found dead there, killed in action. His name is on the Vietnam Memorial in Washington, that sleek long granite tombstone that so elegantly and heartbreakingly marks that war. That police action. That disaster that ripped our nation apart. I am sorry I am not in Washington, placing flowers at the place that shows his name. Instead, I will recall our fallen, and reflect on peace.