Memorial Thanks

Things I'm grateful for this Memorial Day.

For my father and uncles who served in the military. Only months before he died I learned my Uncle Steve had worked with the Army Intelligence branch in D.C. Uncles Bob, Norm and Don served in the Marines. Dad played the trombone in the Army band and drove a staff car for his base's commanding officer.

For my wife Linda, a wonderful partner in every way. Not that this would surprise anyone who knows her, but the love and energy she pours into our grandson are infinite. During lockdown she and I have ridden our bikes around Terre Haute to visit church members in their driveways. She can really ride, but sometimes I have to—uh—encourage her to speed up because she likes to look at the houses and yards. This has been such a fun and useful thing we have decided to keep doing it for as long as the weather and our bodies permit.

For team players. Sadly, we are not all in this together. The old divisions have reappeared in our society. While predictable when the stress lasts so long, it still bothers me when I see people making selfish, defiant choices. But thanks to those who care for others enough to do the safer thing and wear masks in public spaces, who pass on the temptation to use the crisis to push their agendas, who muster the strength to be relentlessly kind.

For the heroes in the emergency rooms and COVID wards. The word hero has gotten watered down from overuse. But these folks are gold-plated, Grade A heroes. Nobody knew what would actually happen. Try to recall how little we understood just a few weeks back. How does it spread? How deadly is it? Would this drug/therapy/public health practice work? Through all the uncertainty, and in some places swamped nearly to the drowning point, these aides, janitors, nurses and doctors grimly donned their protective gear and faced the monster day after day. I thank God for them.

For my life. I often wonder how I got to have the one I did. Sure, I worked hard in school. I've tried to show up every day. But never in a million years did I earn what I've been handed: preeminently Linda; a beautiful, practical, caring daughter; a sensitive, smart son; a grandson whose smile melts me every time; a healthy, optimistic, faithful church. Believe me, I've tried to screw it up. So far I have failed and again, I thank God.

I wish for every person who reads this far that God would give you those amazing gifts of the Spirit: love, peace, patience, hope and all the rest. Especially on Memorial Day, 2020.