My Memorial Days

This year, as always, there were many beautiful and poignant blogs written about Memorial Day.  I didn't add to the blogosphere, not because I am ungrateful, but because I am fortunate enough to to be reminded every day of the sacrifices of so many men and women of our great nation.

I live a short walk from one of the gates of Arlington National Cemetery. In fact, our street is the very street the caissons march down morning and evening on their way to and from their appointed duties.

If you've never been to Arlington I think you would be surprised at its vast size and the fact that it is so very peaceful.  
There are many familiar names like MacArthur, Kennedy, Taft, and Doubleday etched on headstones.  But, there are thousands like Shellace T. Calhoun, Socrates Hoffin, and Cinderella Stineburg whose names and stories have long been told and forgotten. 

There are countless rows of Soldiers "known but to God".  Men whose mothers and wives never knew their fate but who are guarded and protected with honor by the nation for which they sacrificed their lives.

Every day Tippet and I walk quietly through Arlington. I say as many prayers as possible for the Soldiers and their spouses (sometimes children, too) who are buried there. 

I am, like all Americans, grateful and humbled by the service and sacrifice of so many.

I carry Eleanor Roosevelt's wartime prayer in my wallet...

"Dear Lord, Lest I continue my complacent way, help me to remember that somewhere, some how out there, a man died for me today. As long as there be war, I then must ask and answer...am I worth dying for?"

I don't know that I am worth dying for, by any stretch of the imagination, but I try hard every day to be a better person and a giver to the greater common good.

I hope you remain grateful and thankful, every day, for the sacrifices of our military.

'Til next time..