Today was awesome. I slept in until 9:30 and the went climbing with my cousin. Because of Memorial Day, there was tons of people and it was really hard to find a climb. We ended up hiking to almost the last climbing area in the canyon. In the end, it was worth the hike and we had a good time.
After we got done climbing, we went to Hokulia Shaved Ice. I love Hawaiian shaved ice. The deliciousness of syrup drenched ice and then the creamy vanilla ice cream in the bottom. Mmmm.
Also, today's Memorial Day. Often I get distracted by the coming Summer and the fact that I have lots of finals this week. Today I took a moment to look at the history of Memorial Day and to consider what it represents. Yesterday, on our drive through Springville, we passed a cemetery and I watched as people placed flowers on graves and paid their respects. It reminded me that I needed to be more appreciative of the sacrifices made for our freedom.
I watched the flag pass by one day.
It fluttered in the breeze.
A young Marine saluted it,
and then he stood at ease.
I looked at him in uniform
So young, so tall, so proud,
He'd stand out in any crowd.
I thought how many men like him
Had fallen through the years.
How many died on foreign soil?
How many mothers' tears?
How many pilots' planes shot down?
How many died at sea?
How many foxholes were soldiers' graves?
No, freedom isn't free.
I heard the sound of TAPS one night,
When everything was still
I listened to the bugler play
And felt a sudden chill.
I wondered just how many times
That TAPS had meant "Amen,"
When a flag had draped a coffin
Of a brother or a friend.
I thought of all the children,
Of the mothers and the wives,
Of fathers, sons and husbands
With interrupted lives.
I thought about a graveyard
At the bottom of the sea
Of unmarked graves in Arlington.
No, freedom isn't free.
It fluttered in the breeze.
A young Marine saluted it,
and then he stood at ease.
I looked at him in uniform
So young, so tall, so proud,
He'd stand out in any crowd.
I thought how many men like him
Had fallen through the years.
How many died on foreign soil?
How many mothers' tears?
How many pilots' planes shot down?
How many died at sea?
How many foxholes were soldiers' graves?
No, freedom isn't free.
I heard the sound of TAPS one night,
When everything was still
I listened to the bugler play
And felt a sudden chill.
I wondered just how many times
That TAPS had meant "Amen,"
When a flag had draped a coffin
Of a brother or a friend.
I thought of all the children,
Of the mothers and the wives,
Of fathers, sons and husbands
With interrupted lives.
I thought about a graveyard
At the bottom of the sea
Of unmarked graves in Arlington.
No, freedom isn't free.
- Kelly Strong
Four or five years ago, my family and I were at a Subway near Hill Air Force Base in Salt Lake City. A group of three soldiers was standing in front of us. My dad offered to buy their meal, and they of course refused. My dad butted them in line, ordered our food, and the stood at the register until they had order to pay for their's as well. They thanked him over and over, and sat down to eat. We chose a table outside. Two of the soldiers came over and thanked my father again and shook his hand, and then ripped the American flag patches off of their uniforms and gave them to my sister and I. I still have that flag, and it is a reminder of our military and the protection they provide for us. Happy Memorial Day!
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