Wouldn’t it be amazing if on Memorial Day we remembered those enlightened "peacemongers" among us who have died?
Can you imagine the inevitable raising of human consciousness if Americans (and indeed, the whole world) collectively set their attention on the inspirational lives of advocates of peace the likes of MLK, Jr., Jesus, Buddha, and others.
Who did you remember on Memorial Day?
Most recently, my partner’s step-grandmother, Marian Dieken, died on Wednesday, May 23 at age 89. You can read her obituary (and see a photo) by clicking HERE. Marian leaves a rich legacy of love and peace to family and friends, who remembered her on Memorial Day and every day.
The last couple of days, I had been thinking about a particular Memorial Day in 2001 (May 27). Today, I came across an old journal entry that I had written on that day, and I want to share it with you today.
To tell the truth, I rolled over in my head a couple of times whether to offer the thoughts publicly here or not (It will become clear why when you read them), but decided that I owe it to myself and to you to always be open and transparent about my politics, my opinions, and about what I value and hold dear.
Here are my Memorial Day thoughts, dated Monday, May 27 (2001):
Today’s Memorial Day, supposedly a day to remember U.S. Veterans who died in the line of duty. I’m still struggling with what it means to be an American & still very unsure of whether those Veterans died for me — in the larger sense — Obviously on an individual level they did not.
Being drafted is hardly voluntary & even if an American voluntarily takes up the National Rifle, I am opposed to any armed conflict that amounts to cold blooded, premeditated, calculated murder. It transforms the human into the animal: The solier both acts animalistic and views ‘the other’ as an animal. He cannot/does not/won’t relate to the would-be victim nor afford him/her humanity, such that violent & ugly barbarity is justified.
No, as I consider Memorial Day, it is not fallen American soldiers that I remember.
Today, I remember Granddad & his cigarettes & the medium-sized decorative shell Mom bgave him in lieu of an ash-tray. Brown sugar coated graham crackers. Black cherry ice cream. The new suit Grandad bought me over 20 years ago (Dapper?) with the round tan patches on the elbows & Aunt Cookie’s mild jealously. Bad breath. Morning news. Coffee table cluttered with newspapers. "Boy, why you sleeping in the raw?"
Who touched your life meaningfully, powerfully?
Who do you remember?
How is your life impacted as a result?