MEMORIAL DAY

I think there's something incredibly sad about Memorial Day. I still remember when it was called "Decoration Day". My cousin called the other day to get some information about my Dad's service in the Air Force during the second world war, and I got to thinking about him leaving his family and new born son for almost two years way back when. While he was one of the lucky ones who returned in one piece mentally and physically, some of his buddies weren't so lucky. There were a lot of new young widows in those days.

I don't like to visit battlefields, war memorials, or places like Arlington. All of those white crosses that stretch as far as the eye can see just crushes my spirit. Somehow all that suffering overwhelms me. I grew up watching the body bags coming back from Vietnam, and went to school with a lot of the guys who died there...part of the fifty thousand.

I guess I'm pretty much of a pacifist...although that tends to be seen as a dirty word. Although Ghandi, and Jesus and their likes spoke of the peacemakers as being blessed, my views of war are often portrayed as cowardly or at least unrealistic and naive. It just seems that after all these thousands of years, and millions of deaths, that the world ought to be able to find better ways to solve conflicts that to kill one another. Maybe the lessons we learned in kindergarten about not hurting other people were the most important ones that were ever taught. Too bad we didn't pay better attention.