Mary and I were blessed by a happy anniversary that this year coincided with a holiday weekend. We went to see Lewis Black perform after we dined at the Mirage Buffet (we hadn’t been to a buffet in I don’t know how long), and marveled at how we still want to be around each other after these thirty-nine years (there were fifteen months before we got married). I thought that one of our Memorial Day activities was quite meaningful. We bought birthday and graduation cards. It was a nice way of remembering that ones we love.
I don’t know of any of my family ever being killed in the line of duty. That’s rather remarkable when one considers history. The only person I knew who was in the Navy when he was killed was Mickey Fitch, an iconic sixties nerd that I knew through church. There was some sort of accident involving ordinance, and his mother was never the same afterward. I’m sure that there were classmates killed in Viet Nam, but the Class of 68 Wildcats was not one to “keep in touch”, at least with me.
I have very mixed feelings about the holiday we’ve just observed. Certainly those who have given their lives in the service of their country need to be remembered, and in so doing, thanked. But there have been many who have made comparable sacrifices that were not in the military, and I am not convinced that it contributes to our progress as a country, or a species, to glorify war. My prayer is that some day we will memorialize those who make the ultimate sacrifice for love and peace, sort of like we used to do with Jesus before we made him a Republican warrior.
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