Memorial Day

For most Americans, it's a day off. Maybe a short trip over the long weekend. Perhaps a picnic with friends or family. A few people will fly their American flag. They might do a little yard work. Maybe, some will think of someone who died.

Unfortunately, Memorial Day has become just another three day weekend. People don't know that it started at the end of the War Between the States as women put flowers on their loved ones' graves. They have forgotten the meaning of the day: to honor our war dead.

We flew our flag on the front porch today; the only ones on our street to do so. In our backyard we flew another flag that represents a life given in Afghanistan. My husband and I played a concert at a cemetery. We had a cookout at my in-laws'. And all day, I thought of James and his family.

For James's family in Iowa, it's another day without their son. Named after his daddy and grandpa, he went to Afghanistan, tall and strong and brave. He came home earlier than expected. To be buried in the little cemetery outside town.

God bless all the parents who grieve this weekend as they spend another day without their sons (and daughters).