Natalie Whatley

It’s as American as apple pie. Some would even argue it has become a recreational sport. I’m not sure if I should be proud or ashamed to be darn good at it and proclaim I would have the fastest mouth if not for my southern drawl. I refer to our collective love for bemoaning our individual busyness.  Admit it. It’s a favorite pastime when we gather in groups. And I’m as guilty as any.

With that confession, I’d like to state here on this Memorial Day weekend that I’m eternally grateful for all the men and women who died in the service of this country so that I can enjoy the freedom to be busy at whatever I choose. I never forget that freedom of choice comes with a heavy price that is still fought for and paid today. And while I have no specific plans set for tomorrow, I’ll be pausing my chosen activity or inactivity at 3 p.m. for a few moments of remembrance. I hope you’ll do the same.

That 3 p.m. local-time pause was brought about in a year 2000 resolution entitled “National Moment of Remembrance”. Supporters of the resolution hoped to re-educate and remind Americans of the true meaning of Memorial Day, which seems to have been lost in the retail and barbecue frenzy of the three-day weekend.

We’re asked to “voluntarily and informally observe in our own way a moment of remembrance and respect, pausing from whatever we are doing”. That’s the least each of us can do when we consider what’s been given to us by brave, honorable soldiers. As a nation we used to do so much more to observe the day. Have we forgotten?

And what happened to the red poppies? I remember seeing them when I was a child. Maybe I’m not hanging around in the right places or with the right crowd, but I don’t recall seeing them anywhere in recent years. It used to be tradition for them to be worn on Memorial Day and the sales by local VFW’s helped support programs benefitting the families soldiers left behind.

“They fell, but o’er their glorious grave floats free the banner of the cause they died to save.” –Francis Marion Crawford

Don’t let this weekend pass without spending some time reflecting on what it took to gain the freedom you enjoy. And better yet, pass on the true meaning of Memorial Day to children so that they may also learn to have an appreciation for the cost of freedom and the price paid by people from a different place in time.

Soldiers who turn their lives over to the service of their country recognize something bigger than themselves, and so should we. Remember the patriots who made our pursuit of life, liberty and happiness in whatever makes us busy possible.

 © 2011 Natalie Whatley

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

Memorial Day, formerly known as Decoration Day, started out commemorating Union soldiers who died fighting in the American Civil War. The holiday later changed names and grew to include those who died in any war or military action.

The day of remembrance began in the late 1860’s, and continued to be celebrated on the fixed date of May 30 until 1971 when all states came under the federal Uniform Holidays Bill, putting Memorial Day on the last Monday in May.  Some groups have pushed for many years to have the fixed date reinstated.  In a 2002 Memorial Day Address, the Veterans of Foreign Wars stated, “Changing the date merely to create three-day weekends has undermined the very meaning of the day. No doubt, this has contributed a lot to the general public’s nonchalant observance of Memorial Day.” That point may very well be valid. Many seem oblivious to the costs of freedom.

While reading accounts of soldiers who paid for liberty with their lives, I’m always struck by the bravery shown in the face of certain death. Some of them knew they’d be laying down their lives, and I’m reminded how complacent we’ve become in taking what they fought over for granted. Holes were forever left in the lineage of many families, so that you and I, unknowns from a different place in time, could pursue life, liberty and happiness.

It is important that we understand the battles, wars waged, and exactly what these fine soldiers died for. There’s much to be learned from the fires within those souls. They recognized beliefs and ideals far greater than themselves. It’s unsettling at times to see what was bought and paid for threatened, but I remain optimistic seeing  today’s heroes rise up against adversity.

Having been born on Pearl Harbor Day, I’m sensitive to the price paid by the American soldier, as I grew up understanding its significance.  After 9/11, I felt an even more acute awareness for how tenuous a thread our freedoms hang.  The men and women who have given their lives understood as well, and many left us willingly. I can only hope their families take some comfort in knowing their loved one left an indelible mark on our history.

A big posthumous thank you this Memorial Day to the patriots who paid for my freedom with their lives.  I owe a debt I can never repay, but I promise to live each day defending and upholding the freedoms you fought for. Your gifts to this country touch the very core of who I am, and I’ll never forget. Your stories are timeless, as are your sacrifices. You’re gone, but not forgotten.

© 2008 Natalie Whatley