I shed a tear today in front of my kids. I was not ashamed nor did I try to hid it. At noon I took my 7 yr old twins and 3 year old to the court house square. We stopped at each white cross displayed in perfect symetry in front of our majestic 1878 court house. We passed at each cross as i read the name of the soldier who paid the ultimate price for our freedom.

I paused longer at the name of a marine who I went to high school with. We knelt in front of his cross as I said a prayer. At that moment a tear formed in the corner of my eye. As I brushed it way my kids asked me why I shed that tear and I told them about that marine. I went to Sunday School with him from 1st grade up to high school. While we were not close friends we were the same age. It really hit close to home to think that one of my classmates won't be at our 20yr reunion this coming July.

The crosses covered the civil war, WWI, WWII, Korean War, Vietnam and Afganistan. I spoke to my kids about what these crosses meant and when each war happened. After strolling through the rows of crosses we circled the brick pillars that contained the names of every citizen of our county who has served in all the wars.

We strolled over to a bench and all sat down as I talked to them about what today meant. i explained that all those crosses were people just like me. Men and women who had husbands, wifes, parents, children and friends . . . all of whom greatly miss them for the sacrifice they gave. I asked them how they would feel if I my name was on one of those crosses. As the realization of what that meant sunk in I further explained the importance to always remember the service, dedication and sacrifice that all soldiers give for their country. I told them that I did not know most of the people named there, some had died over 100 years ago, but that I felt a kinship and a bond to them. They realized the importance of family, community and country. Their actions and deeds still have meaning today. The names may not always be remembered but the fact that we have our freedom and do have the luxury of forgetting about their sacrifices speaks volumes.

We ended our journey at the cemetery down the street to pause and say a prayer for my parents. My father passed away in Jan of 2002 and my mother joined him a year later in 2003. Some more tears were shed as we held hands and talked to them.

I made one final stop before we loaded up and headed home. Two rows past my parents gravesite is the tombstone of a paramedic who was killed in the line of duty in 1996. As the ambulance was heading back to the hospital that morning with a DUI patient, another car traveling the opposite direction without their lights one ran head-on into the ambulance and killed 2 medics and their patient. This paramedic was instrumental in teaching many of us on our fire dept. I had just finished taking his EMT-B class just a few months before the fatal accident.

So yes I shed a tear today . . . many tears. My children saw me and I was not ashamed. I held my head high as those tears of rememberance and honor boldly formed. Memorial day is a day to remember, but not to reflect on the sorrow or tragedy. Yes we have lost alot of lives over the years. Many I did not know but a few that were close to my heart. But each life touches another and produces ripples that continue on for generations and generations. There is no such thing as an insignificant life. All life deserved to be honored, celebrated, respected and above all remembered.

John