Every once in a while, an event sticks in your mind. Random, haphazard, cosmically accidental moments that in the greater scheme of life should mean nothing, yet somehow become permanently ingrained in one's mind.
It was Memorial Day a few years ago, and at the time, I was stuck in a job that regarded such holidays off as a privilege instead of a basic American right. Wanting to escape my soul-sucking cubicle for a while, I decided to hit the mall and run a quick errand on my lunch break. After successfully completing a film drop-off at Ritz One-Hour, I had just a few minutes to haul-ass to my car and race back to work in order to clock in before my break was over.
As I was speed-walking towards the nearest exit, I glanced up in time to see an elderly man poke his head through the door, and emerge into the hallway dressed in full army regalia. Wrapped up in my own petty issues, and tied to a job that treated it like any other Monday, I'd completely forgotten it was Memorial Day. My brain blinked as the pieces clicked together, and I wondered randomly if he'd come from some kind of Memorial Day service, or if he was simply proud to wear his uniform on the holiday created to honor soldiers. His holiday. Although he must have been in his seventies, he cut such a striking figure that I forgot where I was, and my step stuttered as I momentarily halted my pace. The soldier stopped and looked around, scanning the storefronts on either side. On any other day, he might have looked like an old man out of his element, no doubt waiting uncomfortably for his wife to emerge from JC Penny's carrying an armload of support hose. But not today. Today his gaze was sharp. He stood taller than usual, and with a pride I can't describe. With his shoulders wide and back straight, he strolled with a smooth gait my direction. As I walked closer, I could see that his uniform was perfectly pressed. His black shoes were polished to a high gloss, and the reflection of the lights above made them flash and shine as he walked. He radiated such authority, I had to fight the urge to salute. As we finally passed each other, I smiled his direction. As he playfully returned the smile, he nodded his head and touched the brim of his hat. The years fell away from his face, and his eyes sparkled with the same glint they must have had when he was a young man, decades ago.
I pushed the door open and crashed into the sunshine. The moment was over.
I don't know anything about that soldier, where he served, or what heroic feats he may or may not have performed. I don't know how many friends he lost in the war, or whether or not his sweetheart was faithful while he was away. All I know is that on that Memorial Day, he wasn't just an old man. He was an American soldier who stood up and walked with pride in his service to this country. And that pride was as tall and strong as any monument ever built.
Please remember those that have given their time and lives in the name of freedom. It's a gift we take for granted, never having had to live without it. Happy Memorial Day.
