Memorial Day 2015
This memorial day, I gathered quite a few pictures I found on my Facebook pages to share with all of you. I am sure that if you spend any time whatsoever on Facebook that you have seen the pictures.
Each Memorial Day, my parents go out to the cemetery and lay new flowers. When I lived at home and up until I married, I spend every Memorial Day at a parade. The day was usually gloomy, cold and wet and by afternoon it would warm up.
As I looked through the various pictures, I realized that each generation in my family has spend time in one of the branches of the military. Some of them actually fought in the wars, some just enlisted for a variety of reasons, some made a career out of it and some were buried in Arlington or a local cemetery with full military honors:
Yesterday at church I looked over at young man who recently returned from Iraq. He was part of a group of young soldiers who went over a bomb. He survived with a lot of scars. Someone recently told me that people didn’t like looking at me because I have only one breast, it is a reminder that I had cancer. I know people have a hard time looking at him because he has so many scars and he is a living example of the cost of our freedom.
Another thought I had as I looked over the pictures, was that the right to write what I am writing; the right to believe in one God; the right of my fellow American citizens to live, believe and say their beliefs came at a high cost that we need to remember.
Some of our soldiers are still missing, some are in prisons (war camps or their minds) and some are dead.
Finally, these men and women, over the ages, gave me the right to post these last two pictures:
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