A memorial celebration has a dichotomy of sadness and pride; loss and
growth, fulfillment and emptiness. To call it a celebration, well yes
it is, but not a truly happy one. My mind drifts to that picture of the
young boy in near tears as he is presented with his father's flag,
crushing at best.
The spoils of war lasts a lifetime and are ever changing as a price paid for freedom, peace, and security of many, yet so expensive for a precious few. Its hard to imagine such a loss upon the young.
There will be no jumping for joy, streamers flying, confetti raining on this celebration day, just flags, and prayers for those who paid the amazingly ultimate price and for those left in the wake of such a sacrifice.
Though we didn't lose my father-in-law in WWII, this is he in 1943, we did lose him to another battle a few years ago. He is sorely missed.