But as we revel in the parties, picnics and vacations, we must remember the meaning behind today. This isn’t a free holiday. It came with a price, and we must never forget those that paid it and the ones they left behind.
In all likelihood, someone, somewhere today will get a knock on the door informing them that their husband/wife/son/daughter/father/mother/sister/brother will not be returning home. And for them, Memorial Day will never be just another party, picnic or vacation.
So in honor of Memorial Day--and in honor of the heroes who are the reason for this day--I wanted to share two of my favorite poems. The first was written by a Canadian surgeon in May 1915. The second was written by a high school senior in 1981. Though separated by decades and different wars, the words still resonate today as we send our friends and family members, a new generation, off to war...unsure if they will ever come home.
In Flanders Fields
by John McCrae
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
by John McCrae
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.
