This weekend was wonderful in so many ways. We traveled two hours south on Saturday to see a glacier and walk in a “Sealife” rescue center. Being able to watch our youngest son as he discovered new things was such a joy. It was compounded by being able to watch our grandson experience a new aspect of life on this planet, too. His over-riding joy at seeing the “fish-fish-fish” was so heart-warming. Seeing a glacier up close brought to mind how insignificant we are. My oldest son said he contemplated the amount of glacier-melt it took to create these rivers we saw – “Imagine the little bit of water a melting ice cube produces,” he said, “and then imagine the amount of ice in a melting glacier it takes to create these rivers.” It is pretty astounding to think about. The drive was delicious to a former SoCal gal…all that green in the mountains, capped by snow-covered peaks, and the glorious sunshine…it was a perfect day spent with loved ones.
Sunday’s Divine Liturgy was so enjoyable, too. The visiting priest welcomed us and instituted some traditions we are familiar with, and welcomed doing again. I love standing next to the Deacon or Priest as the Gospel is read, receiving a blessing afterwards. It just warms my heart to be up close and personal to the Word of God. The children seemed to really enjoy it, as well. My husband was asked to serve on the altar and we are thrilled he can once again wear vestments. There are legalities to work out, but the gist is that this parish welcomed us, no questions asked, no hoops to jump through. What a stark difference to our last experience. It has helped to mitigate some of the trials we have been going through. We feel blessed to have found this parish and look forward to the years ahead, serving this community.
Yesterday was Memorial Day. This is traditionally the first real Bar-b-Que day in America. Most American kids see it as the first hint that summer is fast approaching. Up here, the kids are already out of school for the summer, so it is very much the first summer holiday. Traditionally, we always paused to remember our heroes, those who have served or are serving our Country, and then we’d play. But yesterday was the very first time I was privileged to share the holiday with a veteran. And he happens to be my son, so it took on a myriad of emotions for us all. We went on base to the Military Cemetery. There were so many graves, so many flags, and lots and lots of people. The setting was gorgeous, with the majestic mountains in the background, beautiful blue skies, a wonderfully gentle breeze to keep us cool in that blazing sunshine. We walked among the grave stones and our son was somber, quiet, contemplative. We kept a respectful distance from he and his small family. They came to a section where they remembered the father of a friend and brought flowers to his gravestone. We then had to return to the main gate to gain access to the Memorials for my son’s unit. We were finally granted access (do not even get me started on how poorly we treat our vets) and went to visit the memorial dedicated to the men lost in Iraq. It was an incredible moment for both my husband and myself, and our 14-year old son. As we wandered through the grave sites at the cemetery, I began to feel the weight of the sacrifice these soldiers had made for me…from World War I, World War II, Korea, Vietnam, and the recent wars. I felt so unworthy and so insignificant. When we arrived at the Memorial, and when I saw how deeply affected my son was, it caused so many emotions to well up within me. First of all, as a mother, regardless of the age of your child, you want to help them and make their sadness go away. I cannot do that for him and it makes me feel so very impotent. It is also a very personal thing for him and I was privileged he allowed us to share those moments with him. Standing there, reading their names and their ages, I again experienced my insignificance and that I felt like I had not done enough, or even anything, for them. I also felt love for these young men who gave their very lives for our safety and well-being. I felt motherly towards them and offered prayers for them and their families. I felt very unworthy, actually, to be there with my son, because it was truly something very private for him…and it changed forever, Memorial Day, for me.
We read things in news blurbs online; we occasionally see something on the TV news somewhere, mentioning the military still serving our Country and protecting our freedom, in Afghanistan. We rarely hear about it, though, and very few of our children understand it. We, in this country, have re-written history from a date and occurrence to memorize, to moments of political victory. The perspective of history has quickly undergone a profound change. Our children do not understand why there was a WWII or a Vietnam, let alone the recent events in the Middle East; it makes me so sad. And if my son had not been involved, I would be equally ignorant.
There are so many “first-person” video games out there, glamorizing death. There are battles fought and won; lives are “re-generated” and players come back again and again, which is far from reality. Sadly to say, many young men join the military today wanting to see if it is like these games they play; they have no real clue what war entails. And I have been up close to war before, during Vietnam particularly, but never a direct family member, let alone my son. I learned a lot this weekend. We had this amazing experience at the SeaLife Center, we saw a glacier, we worshiped at God’s altar, and we walked among the buried Veterans on Memorial Day. What an array of experiences in three days!
On Sunday in Father’s homily, he talked to us about the Love of God and how God is touching us always…in little ways. When a mother caresses her child; when we hear the laughter of our children; when we fall in love; when we have those inexplicable moments of faith…all these touches are the Love of God…His love for us. As I saw all those grave stones, all those flags and felt the insignificance of my contribution to this world, I also felt God’s peace. These warriors gave their all for me and I never really appreciated it before. Raising all sons, we have a collection of war movies, action flicks, who-dun-its…and as I thought about a lot of them, it sort of made me mad. It is almost like taking and profaning the deaths of these soldiers. It is so hard to explain fully how I felt. These soldiers died protecting me, allowing me to sleep in safety each and every night. Having someone act that out somehow seems shameful. There were so many posts in all the social media sites over the weekend, each one trying to be more patriotic and touching than the last one posted. And they all fell short, so short, of what I witnessed at that Cemetery. The reality of the sacrifice they made for me really touched me.
After we visited the Memorial, we went home and my husband and I both cried for our son and how this has had such a ripple effect on him, his life, and his family. We felt so proud of what he went through and what he lost for our safety. And I respect him so very much more. I believe this country can never do enough for our veterans. We don’t do enough as it is. These men and women will never be the same after their experiences and their families will not either. The only peace I have is that God has all these souls in His Hand. His love touched all of them and all their families. And yesterday, they touched us in a very personal way. We later got back together with my son and his wife’s extended family and enjoyed a wonderful afternoon of some amazing burgers and beans, salads and pies. I hope that every Memorial Day is spent truly remembering those we miss, those who are no longer Bar-B-Queuing with us on this Holiday, and that we can then move on to making new memories of a day spent with family and friends…smiling, laughing, and burning some meat. I know I will never forget Memorial Day 2013.