Tomorrow is Memorial Day, a day set aside to remember and honor the men and women of the United States military who gave their lives in the service of this country.
With that thought in mind, I journeyed to the outer edge of The Whatley Estate and inspected the American Flag that pays constant homage to the core of this country: the ideals of our founding fathers and the people willing to die preserving them. I found Old Glory in spectacular shape and decided it was fit to fly for another year.
Since the inspection took place shortly after dawn’s early light, I had plenty of time to reflect on some things as I went about the remainder of my day.
I started off on my almost daily four-mile trek through my neighborhood, struck by the number of star-spangled banners dotted throughout my route. Were they there before, but missed in my haste? Then I wondered about the people who displayed them in a place of honor in their yards. Even without knowing some of them personally, I felt a kinship, an understanding, unstated collective concern that the freedoms won in heated battles over the course of our history were evaporating.
While many of the flags appeared new or at least in good shape, I questioned whether I would’ve replaced mine, as I have in the past, had it been a little faded or frayed. Tattered and torn, but still waving proudly may have been OK for this year, not because I want to show disrespect –quite the contrary. “. . . our flag was still there.”
Freedom isn’t free. Courageous people dangled by threads, not knowing how long they’d have it in them to stand in defiance of the elements and the enemy. They did so unwavering because their love of country insisted on staying in front of fear. How many of us, who’ve grown soft as if it were our birthright, would brave the relentless heat, stabbing iciness, ferocious storms, shadowy opponents, and death to keep the ideals behind the American flag alive?
I struggle a great deal with what’s happening today in a country where freedom was granted me by the blood of those willing to fight for it. Complacency, ignorance of the costs, and an almost eager willingness to readily give it up is a stinging slap in the face to liberty and those who provided it.
As you enjoy a day off, barbecue, time relaxing with friends and family, take a moment to remember the unyielding soldiers who gave their lives and the families they left behind. Your freedom to choose how to spend the day came at a heavy price and was likely paid by someone you never knew or even heard of.
To all the families, past and present, who’ve been tattered and torn by the loss of a beloved soldier: Thank you. And know that should I ever grace the outdoors of my home with a flag that appears to have seen better days, it’s you I seek to remember. “. . . our flag was still there.” The sorrow belongs to all of us, and your stories serve to remind of what must never be taken for granted.
Freedom isn’t free; remembrance won’t cost you a thing.
“And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave, O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave!”
© 2009 Natalie Whatley