“Find the cost of freedom, buried in the ground…”
It’s Memorial Day weekend and plans for celebration coming together across America. Briskets are in smokers, hot dogs are on grills, beers are on ice and rowdy friends are coming over. Tuesday morning we’ll know how much we overspent on the party. But will we know the cost of the stories written to be celebrated this Memorial Day?
That cost cannot be measured in trillions of dollars like the nation’s financial debt. It is measured in fathers, mothers, sons, and daughters. It was paid in sisters, and brothers—in grandfathers and grandmothers. It is measured in millions of stark white gravestones the world over. And when we have tried to measure the cost of freedom, we succeed only in finding that it cannot truly be counted.
Party like a rock star this weekend. Your right to do so has been paid for in blood. No government mandate gave that right to you and none can take it away from you. To let that happen is to tarnish the names of those who paid the last full measure of freedom. You’ll find what they paid buried in the ground. So, before the party starts think about those names on the small white stones. If you can go, see them, that is the place to say, “Thank You for Your Service”. Stand at their graves and weep for lives too short and love too soon taken away. Those tears that memory calls up, and that gratitude lets flow are the true celebration of Memorial Day.