Memorial Day, Freedom, and Writing

I know, I know, I'm late, but I have an excuse. Honest. It's a good one, too.

I saw Rascal Flatts in concert Monday night. I know, I know. You=jealous! Can I just say that Gary LaVox is one of the most talented singers on the planet? The man doesn't need instruments to sound better. His voice is the instrument and it is fine-tuned.

The man can SING

The concert served as the finale in the Folds of Honor Foundation's Memorial Day celebration. Not only did I take part in honoring our troops and fallen heroes, but I cried and goosebumped my way through Rascal Flatts performing the National Anthem a capella.You know you wanna watch it...here... Of course, it's not quite the same as seeing it in person.

Maj. Dan Rooney, who founded Folds of Honor in 2007, said that Memorial Day is the most important holiday, because without it, we wouldn't be celebrating any others. So true. His words have scrolled like a news ticker across my mind, reminding me what it means to be American and free. Do I truly value freedom, or have I become complacent? Can I really understand how lucky I am to live here, how truffle-sweet my life is? I went to bed with a full tummy (after an evening at Stonewood with friends where we celebrated my birthday with talking, writing, coffee, and cheesecake!), crawled into clean sheets next to a hubby who sleeps with the assistance of a Bi-Pap machine, had a book on my lap, a cat at my feet (and two on the floor), and a bottle of water next to my reading lamp. My biggest worries: upcoming bills, taxes, and the rumbling thunder outside. Every day I rise and fall in peace.

Last night as I sat next to and across from my friends, I realized how I experience the feeling of freedom when I write. It's a feeling I love and never want to lose.

Never forget

There's a thickness of fear in the air right now. The unknown hovers and skulks like a pesky younger brother intrigued by his sister's cute friends. I inherited my worry gene from my mom. She worries about everything. I try not to focus on things out of my control but I worry about other people's ignorance--especially with the upcoming election. But let's save that for another day when I have more time and energy.

Today marks the seven year anniversary of the attacks on America. Gosh, is it OK to call it an anniversary? Perhaps memorial is a better word. I think of an anniversary as something special, something to anticipate with gladness--not something like 9/11, a blight on the landscape of our history. I hope we never forget what that day meant/still means. I hope I never take my freedom for granted and the sacrifices our brave heroes make to ensure that freedom lasts a little longer.

I worry that people have forgotten what it felt like that day, when we watched in horror as our seemingly impenetrable land suffered under the hands of crazed extremists. What worries me even more is that they are still out there and still want to destroy us. They don't want to hurt us. They want to DESTROY us.

Perhaps instead of an external destruction, they are slowly eating away at the core of humanity, yearning for internal combustion.

I hope those out there who pray will get down on their knees and bow their heads and pray for the safety of our country, our people, and the heroes who fight for us to have the freedom to pray.

Take care. Never forget.