There was this student blog I saw the other day—”Run by students, for students.” Some such. High schoolers, looked like. Maybe a class project. It’s last entry was a send off before the big weekend, saying “hey” to a couple of named people and wishing everyone “fun during all the barbecues.”
This morning on the news, the business reporter was reporting on the mercantile hopes for the holiday. “Tends to be a big weekend for summer clothes, appliances…. There are signs that it could rebound the slower past month.”
I suppose its the cycle of things—that holidays lose meaning. I mean really, when was the last holiday anybody actually thought about? Not that I’m bemoaning some larger degradation or social slip-up, just saying.
Martin Luther King’s birthday? Slow day for civil rights. All I know is I have a day off. Woohoo! Same for this one, I suppose. Same for Christmas, on and on.
Do you wonder what families who have lost loved ones to war think on days like today? I’d like to hope they’re surrounded by friends sensitive to the situation. Maybe there is a small service or moment of silence at the picnics. Or maybe it’s Irish style and the party doesn’t ease up at all. The family, sans loved one, goes round and round, the laughter blending perfectly with what has become the social celebration of summer’s liberation.
I’m sure there are some embittered too—angry at the slip-n-slides or the bulk sales mailings. I wonder what they think when they watch the kids playing out back, or when they hear someone glibly comment how Memorial Day was “finally” here and how summer can “finally” start. Like there was this big downer that everyone dreads about May’s end that keeps fun from flourishing.
To the mothers, fathers, sons, daughters and others touched by the severe grip of war, my heart finds little rest today. It’s hard to live happy when others are hurting. You’re in my thoughts.