Is "Thank You" ever enough? The importance of Memorial Day.

I like that holidays such as Memorial Day give us a 3-day weekend, but to me, it's more than that. In my family, we were raised to stand and sing along with the Star Spangled Banner, say the Pledge of Allegiance, and go to patriotic events such as Air Shows on patriotic holidays. This heritage has stayed with me. I still hang my American flag out front on my house and buy poppies from the veterans as these holidays are about more than a 3-day weekend and cookout for me. And it kind of bugs me when I see people milling about and talking during the singing of the national anthem.

My dad, who was orphaned when he was 12, quit high school and joined the Navy at 17; he served in the Korean conflict traveling and seeing a world so very different from the small Texas town he grew up in. He was very proud of his military service and would show us photos and tells us stories. He got so many tattoos while he was in the Navy. My brother was in the Air Force for a number of years; he was never called to active duty, but we were all together (he was home on leave) the day we heard President Reagan had been shot. That was a very eerie day; we froze in front of the TV awaiting news. Was our nation under attack? Would he be shipped off to a war? We were blessed then to retain our innocence as a country a little longer when we learned it was a lone gunman with a terribly misguided mind. We had no idea what a day in our future, September 11, 2001, would bring to our security and smugness as a nation.

My Mom's family had many serve in the military. She is one of 10 kids and they were a farm family. Three of her older brothers served in WWII; her brother B.W. was exempt from serving because he was the 'last boy' at home and needed by the family to work the farm. But, he was compelled to join and serve. He had a bad ear and was rejected by 3 branches of the military; the Army accepted him. Now, my grandparents had their 3 eldest sons far from home fighting a war.

Somewhere in the Philippines, my uncle B.W. died; they never recovered his body. That alone made his loss so much more difficult for my grandparents. This photo I found on Ancestry .com .

In my Grandmother's last years, she was moved to a nursing home; she left behind the majority of all the things she'd spent a lifetime collecting. But she had this big black purse she always kept near her at the nursing home. When she died, we learned of the contents she held so close to her heart... the letters her sons wrote her from war. In that day, a soldier wrote a letter and a photograph of the letter was sent. If a soldier communicated something unacceptable (i.e. anything that might give confidential info such as location, etc.) it would be blacked out with a marker. Sometimes they sent a very brief telegram. It was surreal reading these letters written so many decades earlier. They were upbeat; they tried to calm my grandparents' concerns for them. Then, came the telegram from the military officials informing my grandparents that my uncle was M.I.A. Then, the 'we regret to inform you' letter where they confirmed he had died. That's all the information my grandparents received. Then, letters from my uncles who had learned the news and were researching to see if they could find out any other information through their military connections. And the letter from a fellow soldier friend of B.W. who wrote the family about what a great guy he was. There is an "In Grateful Memory "certificate that reads in part: "He (B.W.) stands in the unbroken line of patriots who have dared to die that freedom might live, and grow, and increase it's blessings. Freedom lives, and through it, He lives in a way that humbles the undertakings of most men." The certificate is signed by Franklin D Roosevelt, US President.

The contents of Grandmother's purse she kept so close to her at the nursing home showed that even though more than three decades had passed since her son had died, her grief had not subsided.

A friend of mine from high school is currently in Iraq; he is a nurse and tells stories about the wounded that come in. He has two small daughters back here at home with his wife and the hardest patients for him to treat are the innocent Iraqi children. A former boyfriend was an Army Captain and a member of the elite Army Rangers who defended us in Desert Storm; his brother, a marine, also served. Their older brother is a Colonel who recently returned from Iraq.

In Dallas, a group of veterans gather at the DFW terminal each week to greet soldiers returning home for a brief respite and are also there to send off the soldiers returning to Iraq. Click here to see this heartwarming and inspiring message.

How can we not be touched by the horrors of war?! And to be inspired by the bravery of those who defend freedom and human rights at the expense of the nightmares that will haunt them when they return home--and for some, at the expense of their very lives? I think a nation like the US that has been blessed by God has a sovereign responsibility to defend the innocent who are victims of the insanity of the likes of holocaust and genocide...even as incredibly difficult as it is for the soldiers who must be brave and for the loving families that stand behind them.

Somehow, 'thank you' feels so inadequate at times like this. But how do you bundle all that you think and feel and want to communicate to a soldier or veteran for the work and sacrifice he/she does on our behalf?

Maybe we should at least try to say 'thank you.' And be a little more respectful the next time the nation's anthem is played while Old Glory waves.