Memorial Day always slows me down. It’s one of those days that cuts through the noise and reminds me what this country has cost... what it continues to cost.
I can’t look at the flag without thinking of the people behind it, the ones who carried the weight long before any of us showed up. Their sacrifices weren’t abstract. They were real lives, real families, real futures given up so the rest of us could keep moving forward.
This year, I find myself thinking about my own family. My dad, my mom, my two brothers—every one of them gave something of themselves to this country. Service wasn’t a slogan in our house; it was a lived thing, a daily expectation, a quiet understanding. And today, I offer them—all of them—to you, dearest U.S.A., in remembrance and respect. Not as symbols, not as stories, but as people who stood up when it mattered.
Memorial Day isn’t about celebration for me. It’s about acknowledgment. It’s about pausing long enough to feel the weight of what others carried. It’s about recognizing that freedom isn’t maintained by chance or convenience. It’s held together by sacrifice... layered, repeated, and often unseen.
So I take this moment, simple and straightforward, to honor those who never made it home, and to honor the families who learned to live with that absence. Their courage built the ground we stand on. Their sacrifice deserves more than a passing thought.
I remember. And I’m grateful.
All photos were taken by me with my iPhone.
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