The Memorial Day Question

And so we have reached another Memorial Day.  The parades are parading.  The flags are waving.

The memories are unfolding.

The memories.

For that is what Memorial Day is, right?  "Memory" is the etymological and emotional root of "Memorial Day."

And I, like many other Americans, am remembering my own family members and friends who served in the military.

But this morning I also awoke with a question, nestled beside my memories.

Exactly what are we memorializing?

The answers to this question can be found in thousands of news stories, carved into marble headstones, etched onto dedicated art works.  The answers can be heard in interviews and speeches and in music.

We are memorializing pain.

And sacrifice.

And loss.

We are memorializing the cost of war, the price we as a nation are convinced we must pay for peace.

We are memorializing the bravery that everyday men and women had to (and have to) pull from deep within themselves to meet unimaginable challenges.

We are paying tribute to the soldiers who did not return home. And we are paying tribute to the soldiers who did return home, but burdened with haunting visions, missing limbs, wounds visible and invisible.

Memorial Day is a day for reflection and gratitude of course, but it is also a day to deeply consider why this pain and sacrifice, this loss and bravery continue to be demanded.

It is  a day to recommit ourselves to a vision of peace.

This morning I woke up wondering why our national and personal memorials to the burdens of war and conflict are not balanced by an equally dedicated celebration of peace.  A day where the speeches and editorials, celebrations and debates center on personal, national and global peace.

I woke up wondering if we, as a nation and world, could even envision a world at peace.

Not a perfect world, for perfection is an unattainable goal.

But a world without bloody conflict, without red-button trigger fingers trembling over nuclear arsenals.  A world without sudden marketplace car bombs.  A world where we no longer had child soldiers or refugees risking their lives on leaky escape boats.

A world where we cared for each other amid our differences instead of killing and wounding each other because of them.

Whether explicit or subconscious,  peace is the rock-hard reason behind the  military sacrifices we remember on this day.

Peace MUST be the reason.

As I watch my fellow Americans blur their Memorial day awareness, sadness and contemplation behind red, white and blue buntings, bright flags, barbecues and parades, I wonder if we've forgotten--if we're no longer really aware of what it is we are remembering and why.

Once we lose sight of this, can we really ever achieve peace?