At the conclusion of yesterday’s neuro-feedback session with IBRF, the technician — rather matter-of-factly — told me to “enjoy the holiday weekend”. I thank her, wishing her the same, and disconnected the video conference call. As I was removing the tangle of wires from Ryan’s head, I paused. “Wait! Holiday Weekend? What the…?”, I wondered.
Turns out, here in the United States it is a holiday weekend. Memorial Day.
In the past, I always loved celebrating it. It was my personal sign that summer was upon us… be damned the official summer solstice that was weeks away. I was proud to hang the stars and stripes from my porch. It meant I could openly grill, without fear of ridicule from the neighbors. The pools were opening and children’s shrieks of fun would be heard. I looked forward to the marathon of war movies throughout the weekend. It meant carnivals were popping up and the county fair was within reach. It was my hope that all women would hear the call to break out the scantily clad, flimsy clothing.
But, most of all and in complete seriousness, I honored those who unselfishly gave everything they had (including their lives). Freedom! The right to pursue life, liberty and happiness.
Well, it’s tough to celebrate it (or any other holiday, for that matter) these days. I lost my freedom. My family lost their freedom. Ryan lost nearly everything. We all lost happiness. The smiles were literally beaten from our faces. Honestly, there’s not even a chance to pursue happiness unless something astonishing happens. It’s fair to say my family is denied this basic right.
Clearly I don’t blame the military for what happened to us. It’s not their job to defend against poor parenting. I don’t expect them posted at every convenience store or parking lot where drunken hoodlums might happen upon. How could they ever defend our country against all the morally retarded?
The best I can do to salvage my once treasured holiday is to silently offer my honor and respect. It’s really not about all the bravado anyhow. I suppose, it the most basic form, I realize it’s not about my enjoyment. It’s about honoring those who deserve it. People who unselfishly put their life aside for the welfare of others.
I’ll still continue to hold on to — and advocate — the ushering in of scantily clad women. My hope is that others will share my passion and we can get Congress to recognize it on it’s very own day. Really, doesn’t it call for such? Someday (maybe) I’ll share my vision of my very own tropical island-nation. In the meantime, I’m holding out hope that this is the beginning of a grassroots movement!
Honoring those who served. All gave some. Some gave all.