Fun

What an oddity. On a day that should be spent in solitude, reflecting upon both honoring fallen heroes and the safety of the human race, the beaches and parks will be filled with frolickers unwilling to spend even this day reflecting upon either honor or safety.

Oh, they will unfurl their dusty flags and attach their store-bought pins and other paraphernalia, They  may even post a patriotic cliche before they head out to enjoy life. Our patriotism seems to be stronger with those who have never had it tested.

And they will promise faithfully to hate those whom they blame for the global pandemic and any pain and loss it may have caused them. The truth or facts behind that hate are less important than the tribal source from which it sprang.

Out, far from the partygoers, lie countless white headstones marking the resting place of those who gave all of their tomorrows so we could have this day. Beyond those lie other grave sites filled with families who tasted full well the bitter dregs of loss and sacrifice. Their grandchildren and their grandchildren will countenance neither, not even today. Some mock and revile those who do.

Beneath almost each white headstone lies one who would follow the orders and examples of their leaders into smoke, fire, and death. The judgement of just wars and unjust wars may have never entered their thoughts. They followed their leaders to their “gory beds” for their comrades first, their families next, and then their country.

Sadly, the streets, underpasses, and forests house many of the living dead, still unable to shed the horror of sacrifice and its lasting effects.

Our leader will likely play golf today. We each choose the path to follow in this life.