Knee Deep in the Hooah!

I have written many times on this blog about the fears I have had to battle since deployment. Fear of the known, fear of the unknown, fear of what lies ahead, fear of what was left behind, fears that I never knew existed. It has been a baptism by fire, to say the least, but it has been an incredible season of growth as well. Even though I am working through those fears and handling them better with each passing day, I have other struggles that are a residual affect of being in a very close and primary kinship position with a soldier who is deployed.

I am having a really hard time finding it within myself to be out in public much this Memorial Day weekend. As a matter of fact I have set up house and decided to stay inside as much as possible. I spent the better half of yesterday working on a couple of pieces of furniture I am refinishing — it occupied my mind and my emotions for a while. I am having a very hard time reconciling all of the commercialism of Memorial Day. When I walk through the stores I find myself on the edge of tears. When I watch the news I want to scream. I can’t seem to get myself past this grief reaction. It’s all way too real for me now, but it hasn’t always been that way. There was a day and time where I thought for a moment about the meaning of Memorial Day, but the rest of the weekend was spent having fun, celebrating something for some reason, and eating, and shopping — you know the things that we assume make us American.

I walked through the store early last week and passed isle upon isle of stuff for people to buy, and decorating those isles were small flags. A grief laden anger began to well up inside of me. I touched a plastic flag picnic table cover and I thought “Is this what he fought for this year? Is this what we buried our sons for? We take this symbol that we cover their coffins with and eat on it?”

The cost of freedom is not calculated at the store or in the economy. The benefit of freedom is not either. I am free today to write these words, to express my anger, joy, fear and ideas because there are defenders who defend my right to do so. I worshiped this morning according to my beliefs as a Christian, and sat under the teachings of a man of God who preaches scripture without fear of being imprisoned for it — though his words would cost him his life in other places.

Our soldiers do not give us our freedom, but rather they are the guardians and defenders of that very God given trait. God made man free, our military fights to keep those would deny us that right at bay and in check. That is what this weekend is about. It is not about the decorations, sales, cute plastic flags and cook-outs. It’s about taking an inventory, reflecting on the freedom that God gave to you, and remembering with respect those who have preserved it for us.

Tags: Army, Army Mom Posts, Iraq, Posts by Claire, deployment, holidays, memorial, military //