Carmel-by-the-Sea, California | Memorial Day Weekend
My son's middle name, Henry, comes from his grandfather. He was a veteran of the second World War, and a union organizer and civil rights worker during the McCarthy era (and beyond). I think about my grandpa a lot; he was a thoughtful, passionate, and mostly very kind man. He was the type of person who didn't just say he believed in things; he fought for them, and made sacrifices for them. I think about him even more lately: I picture him sitting at his dining room table, eating a mango and watching the news. He'd be so disappointed - so saddened - by what's happening in our country right now.
The point of today, of course, is to remember the thousands and thousands of men and women who have given their lives in an effort to help make our country what it is. It's a day to think about our country's past, and honor those who have helped to shape it, but I think that it's also a day when we should think about its future - because that's what all those countless servicemen and women were fighting for.
