Mountain Memorial Day

Woke up to the sound of revolution. Or at least a revolutionary war reenactment band. Teenagers, by the look of them. Whites and blues and reds. They were mixing England and America.

Drums worn at an angle to play traditional cadences. Flue sand bass drums, too. In between songs, the composer reminding everyone to "hydrate," and reminding them they should have done it yesterday and absolutely need to do it tomorrow, too.

Then at the mountain grocery store, an announcement came over the PA: In solidarity for our fallen brothers and sisters on this Memorial Day let us all take a moment of silence and remain in place for one minute.

I happened to be in front of the strawberries and blueberries when this happened. And stood transfixed as others stood transfixed. Employees and shoppers alike.

In the town where I live, they hang up vertical banners of local soldiers, their faces fresh and young. I wonder how many return with PTSD or addicted to pharmaceuticals from injuries.

Yesterday at a yard sale, I heard an older soldier, long since out of the forces describe the back pain he's lived with for decades. When the owner of the house asked if he was on some pain-relieving drug whose name escapes me he answered "No ma'am. I know how addicting it is. I'd rather live with the pain."

I haven't seen this many flags in my life. Not growing up in Pittsburgh, or in Atlanta or New York and certainly never in Montreal or Los Angeles.  There really are two different countries. I don't know if it's better to stay together or if decoupling would be better. I think it would bring its own challenges.

Plus it seems to easy. We're supposed to love one another unconditionally. Even though that's an unachievable ideal it's still worth striving for, and even fighting for although it would be better for us all if the fight were with words and ideas, not weapons.

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