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Memorial Day, ObservedMay 25, 1998 -- 9:19 AMI'm too young to remember Vietnam; Operation Desert Storm still doesn't make sense to me; I've been to the Arizona memorial at Pearl Harbor... but somehow, it just doesn't sink in. How many hundreds of thousands have given up their lives in war? These days, it seems like Memorial Day has become for many people 'just another three-day weekend,' or the 'unofficial beginning of summer.' Shouldn't it mean more than that? Jev, presently located not so far from D.C., went to the Memorial Day Concert on the west lawn of the White House. I was supposed to watch PBS and see if I could see him, but I spent the day lazy and forgot all about it until he hopped online last night and mentioned it. I think I would have liked to have been there with him... to take in the sense of national pride, and maybe grasp a little of what so many gave up their lives for the rest of us to have... freedom. Freedom to choose our religion, or none at all; freedom to live where we want, have the kinds of jobs we want, marry who we want, and freedom from dictators and those who would control us against our will. When we talked on the phone last night, Jev got to rambling about various things, including the fact that he's the right age to be drafted. While his computer skills would keep him from the front line, still it would mean another separation for us, and that's something neither of us really want. I suppose, if it came down to a matter of necessity, that we could manage. We have so far. But I really hope it never comes to that. Selfish of me? Well... let me phrase it this way: I wish that the world as a whole could become one community, and put away their weapons of war and mass destruction... to take on the fight against the real evils in this world: crime, racism, disease, poverty, hunger and hate, to name a few. Will it happen? Maybe someday, but I have the feeling that day is yet long in the future. Yes, I want to make a difference. I've always felt my writing was a way to do that, and whether this journal online is some little way of making a start or not, it is something I choose to do. Maybe it's just practicing, leading up to the big thing; maybe it's nothing but a fantasy, but it's what I do. Jev made me smile last night -- I guess he must have read my entry a while back about being worried about what I would do with myself once we were together and married. Yes, part of me was afraid that he would be upset with me if I didn't go out and actively pursue some sort of career. I get the feeling his father would disapprove of me if that were the case, but I also know how he feels about his father's opinions. Anyway, he said something to the effect of someday down the line, he sees me dropping him off at work and going off to do my own little thing -- working a few hours at a craft store teaching classes, or volunteering at the library (that one is what made me think he read that entry), and so on. We'd been talking about being separated, and how we hoped the longest we'd be separated was 8 hours a day while he was at work. Sometimes I feel like I was born a few decades too late. In an earlier place and time, women weren't expected to have careers, other than raising a family, taking care of the household and so on. No small job in itself, of course, but that's not what every woman wants, and I'm sure even in the days when it was the thing to do, not every woman was happy with that. How many housewives wanted to be so much more? I don't want to be just a housewife/homemaker. I want to do something with my life, and have some purpose to it. But when things like my trip to the E.R. Friday happen, I wonder... will I have the chance? How long do I have? I guess it's just a fact of life, that everyone is gonna die some day, and nobody knows if that will be 100 years from now, or just around the corner. It seems I've sort of come full circle: death, life, death. Today is a day to remember, and honor those who have given their lives for the cause of our nation. Maybe we need to start doing something on Memorial Day besides breaking out the white purses, cracking open the case of beer and firing up the barbecue. What if each of us chose some little thing to do to help fix what's wrong in the world, as our way of honoring those who have given their lives to do that job before us? A small 'random act of kindness' or a day spent volunteering, or even a personal pledge to volunteer x hours a week, month or year. To wrap this up, a link to something I wrote for my Freshman English class at Cerritos College, several years ago (1992?): Intellectual Autobiography Someplace you can go to make a difference: Operation Just Cause || Home | Journal Index ||
 
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