Memorial Day holds strong memories for me. Always close to my birthday, it meant a backyard party with siblings, cousins, and friends. Motown playing on the basement stereo. Adults playing Bid Whist and talking trash. Badminton tournaments while the ribs smoked in the grill. Laughter, loud raucous belly laughter. German chocolate cake baked from scratch by my friend Rosie.
Mom was a seamstress and would make red, white, and blue outfits for my sister and me. The brothers dressed in stripes and denim as I recall. Our family was a military one: Dad and Uncle Gus served in the Air Force during the Korean War. Uncle Luther was a Marine. My brothers Rich and Ron would grow-up to be Army. We understood that in the remembering were the lost soliders, the fallen who had stood on a wall, landed on a beach, or fought in a jungle to fight the enemies of our democracy.
Dad's military service ended right before Vietnam; Ron served tours in Iraq and Afghanistan. All these veterans survived the war. Sort of. Uncle Gus died of a brain tumor, Agent Orange the culprit. And it turns out ALS is an Airforce veteran's disease. Dad died of ALS last August, a casualty of war after all.
I find myself dreaming of a world in which Uncle Gus and Dad are still sitting at the Bid Whist table, talking trash with Uncle Luther. That the Warrant officer, James, who I met when visiting Ron overseas did not die in a helicopter crash. That all the veterans who died in all the wars who are being remembered by their loved ones died of other causes. That Arlington Cemetery is a park. That all over the globe in theaters of war, the people who are fighting have what they need--belonging, love, resources, land, dignity, and safety, so they study war no more. I'm dreaming a world where peace guides the planets and love moves the stars.
Can you feel that; dream that? No more enmity; humans connected for shared thriving, the earth and the fullness therein loved by all the creatures. “You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one.” Many of us gathered as dreamers during Freedom Rising this year, and if you weren't there, you can still organize for a better world by viewing our conference in your community.
Want to dream a little dream with me? Spend June with us and come this Sunday. Let's listen more closely, learn of the power of our love, and lean into peace. One relationship at a time. Turn our swords into gardening tools.
What if we dream of a future where we know more fully how to love? Come be with us and let's try to do better.
In Fierce Love,
Jacqui
Memorial Day was greatly influenced by blacks after The Civil War. The tradition of having a picnic was started by former slaves.
Yes yes