I would like to offer a few words for this Upcoming Memorial Day Weekend/Holiday.
As we sneak out of work early today to make preparations for our travels, cookouts, yard work, or whatever plans we may have, how many of us really stop to recognize what this Holiday means? I am afraid more folks relate it to great sales of mattresses and appliances than what it's really meant to be. (Don't get me wrong, we scored a great deal on a new washing machine the other day in a pre-sale.) But what does it really mean?
Memorial Day is a day set aside for us to look back and recognize the great sacrifices made in the line of duty and service to our country. Chances are, you all have a close connection to someone who has or is serving in the Military. Many of us are fortunate to still have those connections with us today, however, not every family is so lucky. Through the years, many men and women have fallen in the line of duty, and the least we can do is set aside some time to show them the respect they deserve.
Personally, I have had several family members who have and are currently serving. From the Beaches of Normandy, to Korea, and the seas of Vietnam, the mountains of Afghanistan and the training fields of Georgia, these great men in my life have/did answer a call to serve, knowing the price that may be asked. So, yes, Veterans Day is a day to honor those who serve and Memorial Day for those lost, but I think each deserve our respect!
Lastly, I ask you to take a look at the video attached above, love him or hate him, President Reagan, delivered a speech that I make a point to watch every year. Hope you will too. And don't forget, when you crack a cold one for yourself this weekend, crack one for the fallen as well.
God Bless America, God Bless the Fallen, and God Bless the men and women who answer the call!
" “In Flanders Fields,” written in 1915 by Canadian soldier John McCrae. He saw the poppies in burials around his artillery position in Belgium.""
In Flanders Fields
by John McCrae, May 1915
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
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