A Price Paid
I’m usually not one who really gets “into” national holidays for some reason. I enjoy the time with my family, but I don’t always feel that the importance of the holiday makes a huge impact on me.
This is not so for Memorial Day.
Regardless of what a person thinks about war in general or our nation’s decisions in war specifically, I think it’s hard to ignore the importance of sacrifices that young people have made for years for our country. It’s easy to spend a lot of time thinking about all the things that could change (and should change) in America, but sometimes I think about all that I really do appreciate about our country as well.
I appreciate being able to worship when and where I want to (and who!). I appreciate being able to own property. I appreciate the fact that I don’t live in constant fear of imminent danger from bombs, missiles, suicide bombers, rebel armies, or the like. I appreciate grocery stores.
I mean, there is so much to appreciate, when you think about it, that it’s overwhelming.
But this also hits me on a personal level. My Papa served in the Navy in World War 2. As a 19 year old boy he was flying missions over Japan. Several weeks before the end of the war, he was shot down over enemy territory. His buddy flying another plane stayed with him, circling in the sky, but eventually had to leave to refuel. When he returned with a rescue mission, my Papa was gone. He had been taken prisoner.
In all the years I knew my papa (he passed away several years ago) he never could talk about what happened to him in the ensuing weeks before his release.
I just can’t even imagine that kind of sacrifice.
So while I do not have false notions of America being perfect, or righteous, or blameless—and while I think that war produces so much pain that we can’t even comprehend it—I still can’t escape a sense of deep and undying gratitude for those who have sacrificed so much over the years to help establish life as I know it.
Do you know anyone to whom you feel a debt of gratitude on a day like this?