I have relatives who served,
I have relatives who fought,
I have relatives who died,
But I do not need a national holiday
to remember them.
I am sure there is a level of awareness,
of insight,
that comes with service,
unshared by those with no service,
unknown by those with no loss,
who on this day stand and weep
when they remember.
The dichotomy for me
is the struggle between the acceptance of
the inevitableness of the need for warriors,
and the acceptance of the service of
those who willingly become warriors.
What if they did not,
what if none did,
if no one fought
there would be no fight.
As it turns out,
those who start the fight
do not fight,
but use others’ children
as weapons.
And it is those children we remember
with rage that equals grief.