Oh say does that star-spangled banner yet wave.
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?
This Memorial Day weekend was a different kind than most of us have ever experienced. The honor and respect for our flag and all those who gave their lives for it was present, but the way we recognized this honor was vastly different.
There were no crowded beaches with thundering air shows above, no parades with on-lookers cheering, no marching bands performing patriotic pomp, no pools and yards full of shouts and splashes of summer's unofficial arrival.
This weekend, after months of indoor isolation, we had a profoundly different kick off to summer. In fact, while we were busy outwardly honoring the lives courageously sacrificed for our nation, many of us were inwardly reflecting on the elements of our own lives we have given up these past few months in the name of our neighbor.
I don't intend to compare the fleeting inconvenience of mask-wearing and social distancing to the ultimate sacrifice made by our men and women in the armed forces. There is nothing so brave and selfless as their willingness to defend our freedom with their lives. Those who have served and those who do still have my utmost respect, thanks, and admiration.
What I do wish to consider, though, and invite you too as well, is that for the great many of us who will never find ourselves in military uniform or on battlefields, this time in our lives may be the greatest act of humanity we ever undertake for our fellow man.
We have been asked to willingly lay down our lives as we know them for the good of our neighbor. And not just the neighbors you speak to on the sidewalk, or share a cup of sugar or a few eggs with, or bring the garbage pails in for. Also the neighbor who you've never met over that tall fence, whose house you walk past and admire the garden but never laid eyes on the gardener, whose grass you are careful to keep your kids off while waiting for the bus in the morning. For those you know well and those you never will. You are giving up so much of the life you know for them. As they are for you. What greater love is there than this?
So, this past weekend, in scarcely-populated backyards, there were hot dogs plumped over coals, cold beers cracked open under the warm sun, and watermelon juice dripped down to elbows. We tasted for the first time in our lives new, distinct flavors of freedom.
We are free. We are brave. We are home.
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