When I was a child we would always travel a couple hours distance to visit cemetaries where many of our ancestors were buried. I remember quite clearly one particular Memorial Day, seeing amongst the bouquets and flowers, the neglected and untended grave of a soldier.

We knew it was a soldier because a small, lonely flag stood next to the grave. I don't remember the man's name, but I do remember he'd died very young, the dates indicated it was quite likely during war.

My brother and I weren't very old but we started crying at the thought of this lonely grave of an unknown stranger, seemingly forgotten with nobody left in the world who remembered or cared enough to visit his grave.

We were inconsolable, so, at a loss for what else to do, my mom went to the graves of our ancestors and removed a flower or two from each arrangement and allowed us to place them on the barren grave of the soldier.

After that, every Memorial Day she would bring extra flowers for me and my brother to place on the forgotten graves.

I would challenge everyone this Memorial Day to remember those who have fought and died for their country and maybe, if you're at a cemetary and you see a grave of a soldier who's sacrifice the world seems to have forgotten, to take the time to lay a flower there.




Freedom Is Not Free


I watched the flag pass by one day.
It fluttered in the breeze.
A young Marine saluted it,
And then he stood at ease.
I looked at him in uniform
So young, so tall, so proud,
He'd stand out in a crowd.
I thought how many men like him
had fallen through the years.
How many had died on foreign soil?
How many mothers' tears?
How many pilots' planes shot down?
How many died at sea?
How many foxholes were soldiers' graves?
No, freedom is not free.


I heard the sound of Taps one night,
when everything was still
I listened to the bugler play
And felt a sudden chill.
I wondered just how many times
That Taps had meant "Amen"
When a flag had draped a coffin
Of brother or a friend.
I thought of all the children,
Of mothers and the wives,
Of fathers, sons and husbands
with interrupted lives.

I thought about a graveyard
At the bottom of the sea
Of unmarked graves in Arlington...
No, freedom is not free.

Author Unknown






More...

There is nothing more costly freedom.
The battle still rages against freedom and the cost continue to rise..

May we never forget even one.
Thanks to all who ever served!

.

Thank you for posting that, Kim.

My kids and I also observe this day in much the same way you described. I think it's important for my children to understand, to know about, the ultimate sacrifice that people make for our country.

I would also like to point out that there are many veterans among us who are living....those who are injured physically, some permanently, and some who are psychologically and emotionally scarred from their experiences. These are men who need our support right now. Some of them still have nightmares, flashbacks, and who struggle with depression, PTSD, anxiety, and relationship problems as a result of being in war time situations. Let's not remember only those who have died, but remember and support those who are still living. Some of them feel guilt that they survived while their comrades perished. Their internal agony is probably overwhelming every day, but even more sharply in focus on days like today.

For all of you who have put yourself out there to protect, defend, and honor our country,

I salute you.

http://www.thesoldiersproject.org/