I’ve been following a not so subtle theme in my titles over the several days, but this is the last. Today is celebrated as Memorial Day in most of the United States (not here in Alabama — not officially (trash and recycling is still picked up at the curb), but more on that later). In rough historical context, Memorial Day began as Decoration Day not long after the Civil War as a day of remembrance for those who have died in service to our country — on both the Union and Confederate sides. That tradition continues to today and includes subsequent sacrifices.

Several years ago, I learned former Confederate states celebrate some version of Confederate Memorial Day, as far as I can tell, usually instead of the national Memorial Day. With my solidly Northern roots and perspective, I confess I’ve never understood the mindset that would bring this about, but I’ll concede the thought behind it is largely the same.

Twenty-six years ago yesterday, I climbed onto a plane in Hartford, CT, and flew to Texas where I reported to Lackland AFB to begin Basic Training. The world is a vastly different place today than it was then. The Cold War was in full swing, and my first duty station was Malmstrom AFB, Montana, home of the 341st Stretegic Missile Wing. I became immersed in practicing to fight “The Big One” and how we would reconsitute afterward.

I knew the Middle East would be the “Next Big Thing” but the world conditions weren’t quite right for it until The Berlin Wall fell and “peace began breaking out all over.” Adjusting from the “Elephant in the Room” to the “Cockroaches in the Walls” has been something we’ve been striving to do ever since, and it’s been difficult if not downright impossible at times.

In all this time, I’ve been fortunate that the closest to home the War on Terror has touched was earlier this month when my former co-worker’s son was killed in Afghanistan. but I learned last week it will only be a matter of time. My brother’s tour as a DI is nearly over, and he’ll be going back out into “The Real Army” later this year. I know that means won’t be long before his new unit will rotate into theater. I know other people who are in theater or will be going soon. I’m only fooling myself if I think I can put off “It Can’t Happen Here” much longer.

And, of course, the older we get, the more cognizant we become of our own mortality and that of those around us. So, today, though I’ll be enjoying the fruits of our freedom, I’ll be reflecting upon those who have given all to assure it and their loved ones they left behind.