Usually, I write a lot. Lately – not so much.
My computer has been sick and tired since Christmas. Some of you who follow my writings know that at Christmas we updated to Windows 10. My friend got a fever and crashed into a deep sleep.. I had no computer for 4 days – crisis mode for me. Luckily, Microsoft fixed it for free, but my trusty friend was never the same. This week it huffed one last time. I’m still hoping it has enough charge to tackle a couple more things on it, but for the most part it is tired and waiting to cross that techie bridge to keypunch haven.
Thank God for backups.
So today I went venturing into the tech world to discover a new friend. Things have changed since my last foray into this electrifying world. Then again, things in that world continue to change faster than I want to try to keep up with at this point in my life. I looked at many choices. Desktop – laptop – tablet – mini – macro – Errrrr!!!!
My white hair began to fry and the purple streaks sizzle.
They could make it simple for some of us who really don’t care what computer we use. We just want something that works and does all the things we are used to doing. DON’T SAY IT – I already know – I’m set in my ways. In less than a week, I turn 65, so I’m allowed to be a little set in my ways.
But the real reason I am writing this tonight is that it was on this pain-in-the-tush journey that I came across a scene that was reminiscent of my OH home. The one I saw today is not nearly as grand, but it was still wonderful to see. It quickly sent me searching for a turn around so I could go back and take a picture. A small church. A cemetery next to it. Flags not only all around the cemetery but completely lining the drive and entrance to the church as well.
I wish I was a better “picture-taker”.
One thing I have dearly missed since we moved to NC is driving past Greenlawn Cemetery in Perrysville, OH, on patriotic holidays. Flag after flag outlines the cemetery and marks each veteran grave site. It always makes my breath catch in my throat. It always reminds me that freedom is a holy gift.
I was one of the lucky ones growing up in the 50’s. My daddy came home from WWII.
He was there to teach me to sing my first song – the Marine Hymn – he taught me to rise from a sitting position with crossed legs – he taught me to stand for my convictions – he taught me to remember all the sacrifices that must be made for freedom to continue to exist because someone is always trying to steal it away. He taught me that Our Father made the same sacrifice.
Our Father created a garden for us to live in and gave us the freedom to follow the rules – not demanding obedience – but asking only that we remember. Love Him – Love ourselves. Even then – someone tried to steal it. Long story short, Our Father sacrificed His desire to hold us safely close to Him and gave us the freedom of choice. We’ve been stumbling around ever since.
It is what this holyday is all about. A time to remember those who sacrificed all they had so that we could choose our own path – raise a family – go to the beach – have a picnic – love ourselves – love our neighbors.
Freedom isn’t free. It is a day of remembrance. It is the gift of freedom.