Traveling on the 4th of July

I awoke before the dawn of the 4th of July to prepare myself for a flight to DC. Usually, I choose not to travel on holidays if it can be helped, but this was a journey of personal necessity - to attend the funeral of my Great Uncle, Jim Carberry. He passed away in April, and his final request was that he be laid to rest in Arlington National Cemetery. Under these circumstances, it was rather difficult to consider festivities. While the idea of arriving at our nation's capitol for the 4th of July was a rare treat, the fact is that I had a 3-plus hour layover in Chicago that kept me from being there in any time to enjoy fireworks displays of any kind.

While boarding the flight from Chicago, we (the other passengers and I) learned that a U.S. Marine was escorting the body of a friend and fellow soldier, who died on his third tour in Iraq, to Washington DC. He, like Jim, was to be buried at Arlington National Cemetery. Though this young man and my Uncle were both being laid to rest in the same cemetery under similar honors, it occurred to me that the major difference was that Jim survived his military service and this soldier did not.

On the final descent we passed intimately close to people crowded around the Washington Monument to witness the fireworks. On the tarmac the sky blossomed with sparks of color as I questioned myself about what patriotism and honor mean to me or to others. Life is a beautiful struggle, but I wonder why this soldier is being honored more in death than he was in life. Perhaps we just don't pay attention until its too late. I quietly said a prayer for him before I disembarked, followed by one that returns the rest of the U.S. troops home to their families.