On Memorial Day I think of my luck.
I could not help but think of my luck when I visited Arlington, or ran my fingers along the Wall searching for names or wandered among the dead of war laid to rest here in my hometown cemetery just down the street.
I think of my luck to be born at a moment in time that fated me to slip between wars and drafts and “police actions”.
I escaped war. I escaped dying in war, calling out for my mother a world away.
On Memorial Days past I recall driving to hikes or chores and feeling my luck take me on a side trip, driving me slowly through the nearby shade dappled cemetery to seek out the fading names of strangers on tombstones festooned with small flags signifying martyrdom. Who were you in life?
This old man knows when he reads the dates and years he passes that luck spared him from the cruel theft of dying young. Too young. Far from home.
On Memorial Day I think of my luck to have grown old, knowing I shall die an old man here at home, having lived a full life, to lament my aches and pains, to bitch about taxes, to play with my grandchildren, to tell my sweetheart and children I love them, unlike the war dead cheated by fortune.
On Memorial Day I think of my luck to be here thinking of my luck to have met so many men and women in life who said yes when history called and the accident of birth and time gave them headstones and small flags in exchange for their lives.
Here are some cartoons I drew for Memorial Days past:
Amen, and then some. Remember those who survived, as well, yet were scorned. Remember to include the more recent indecent comments made at Arlington by a current contemporary idiot. God bless and defend America.
A moving tribute on this Memorial Day. Thank you!