Aselin

I know a visit to a cemetery is just not enough; I'm not sure what would be enough. How does one show gratitude for sacrifice?


Especially on holidays that seem to have lost their importance in society, it is my goal to impart to my children an understanding that the life they live is a blessing bestowed upon them by the sacrifice of others. While Memorial Day honors those soldiers fallen in combat, we had to include a recognition of those soldiers who served at all.

Fields of bronze plaquards remember life after life that sacrificed a portion of their time on earth in defense of our nation. In defense of our family.

Our National Cemetery is unlike any other in the nation. There are no rolling hills of greenery. No lushness. No cool waters. It is a harsh place that humbles me each time I go.

Sand crunches beneath our feet as we pass through row after row of of the departed. Some fell in combat, cut down too soon. Some passed recently after full lives. Some are buried with their sweethearts. Some with their children who preceded them in death. My throat chokes at the numbers. I've never met a single one of them in this life, yet as I bend to replace an askew flag, to brush some sand off a headstone that receives no tending, I feel deeply connected to them.

In another section of the cemetery, out of a program comemmorating the day, strains of patriotic songs waft through the air. I don't want to be with the crowd. Neither do my children.


Gathering my little family together, we read "In Flanders Fields." Flags instead of poppies blow in the wind, yet the effect is just as sobering. We read a 1983 speech by President Reagan honoring the day, and his words help give purpose to the grief: "As a tribute to their sacrifice, let us renew our resolve to remain strong enough to deter aggression, wise enough to preserve and protect our freedom, and thoughtful enough to promote lasting peace throughout the world."


Planes fly overhead, and one peels off in missing man formation. I notice a single soldier has stood, with his head bowed, by a single grave for our whole visit. I tear as he mourns a loved one. The sadness I feel is surpassed by my gratitude. Another gift these fallen have given me.

May we never forget.