Much has been written about rain. Sometimes we get too much of it. Other times, we don’t get enough. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow suggested, “The best thing one can do when it’s raining is to let it rain.” That seems to be sound advice.
It’s Memorial Day, and it’s raining. As I consider the impact of that, one thing that comes to mind is that I probably won’t be hanging out the flag. The U.S. Flag Code recommends against it, unless the flag is a designated “all-weather” flag. Mine isn’t.
I have been teased in the past over the importance I place on displaying my flag on Memorial Day. Since my gravel road is a dead-end, there’s not much traffic. “Who’s going to see it?” My reply has always been, “I will.”
The rain does affect things. Social media is announcing the cancellation of many events this morning. I suppose I could announce that there will be no flag flying at the end of the driveway due to inclement weather. That’s certainly not as significant as the cancellation of a parade or cookout. The absence of a flag may not even be worth noting to most. I will notice.
It took some time and effort, but I succeeded in getting my book, Memorials, Monuments, and Memories, published in time for the holiday. I’ll confess that the idea of standing in the rain this year to honor those who served was not appealing at first. Haven’t I done enough?
No, I haven’t. As interest in and support for the true meaning of Memorial Day dwindle, we should feel called to do more. When I realize that thousands of 17-year-olds made the ultimate sacrifice, standing in the rain for 20 minutes doesn’t feel like much of a hardship by comparison. I might even enjoy the fact that I can have that honor.
The weather may influence what we do, but that doesn’t mean we should allow it to dictate our mood. Somber is not a synonym for sad. My hometown announced that the traditional ceremony has been moved inside the town hall. Those who wish will then parade to the cemetery to honor the fallen. (You can’t fire the gun salute inside the town hall!) We must explore what it truly means to honor the fallen, keep faith with the past, and celebrate our shared humanity.
Today, it’s not about the rain. It’s about love, legacy, and the living obligations we carry forward. Bring your umbrella.
Well done, Walter! I agree completely!
Love to you and your lovely wife! Keep that umbrella handy!!
Thanks, Glenys! Great to hear from you… Roosevelt said, “Walk softly and carry a big stick.” An umbrella might serve the purpose!
Well done, Walter. I think that the reason “remembering” is getting weaker is because we are the last generation to have been drafted into service. When a family’s son or daughter is required to serve, it make a difference as to how you see the battle as a citizen who’s kids didn’t have to serve. What do you think?
That’s an interesting thought, Mary. Most of the WWII veterans I knew weren’t drafted–they enlisted in the early years of the war. (In WWII, 61% were drafted primarily because enlistments largely ended in 1942 to streamline mobilization. I’m not sure the draft accurately reflects an unwillingness to serve.) I saw the battle through the eyes of those who fought it, and that’s largely how I remember it. The younger generations are losing that opportunity and with it they are losing an appreciation and understanding for the legacy of it.
I was thinking more of Vietnam. WWII was a different story but nonetheless meaningful to the families of those who served.
You made me curious. Of course, there are many variables, but 25% were draftees, 75% were enlistees. (This is global, not specific to Vietnam. As I understand it, about 1/3 of those joining the military during that era were deployed to Vietnam. Others were deployed to regions such as Europe and Korea. I think it’s fair to say that Vietnam Vets didn’t receive adequate recognition at the time. It follows that there would be a diminished interest in remembering. (I’m not saying it was right.)