Why Mommy Cries at a Parade

To my children,

It has become a tradition each year to return to the small town where I grew up and attend the Memorial Day Parade.

You are always excited to see "princesses" (pageant winners), "karate heroes" (local martial arts classes), soldiers and "the horses that come at the end and poop all in the road." The highlight for you is probably the extraordinary loot of candy that you always bring home, tossed from classic cars, trailers full of sports teams being pulled behind trucks, and tractors.

There comes a time in the parade each year when a hush falls over the crowd and no candy is thrown. Somehow, even though you are all still young, you know to wait quietly while this group in the parade passes. You can't read well enough to understand yet what this group represents. If you looked behind you during the moments, when the only sound is shuffling feet on asphalt, you would see me wiping tears from my cheeks and you might ask, "Mommy, why are you crying?"

If you turned and ask me that, my loves, I would answer:
The signs that they hold as they go quietly by are the names of the recently fallen from our state. They are names of soldiers, warriors, mommies, daddies, sons, daughters, sisters, brothers, and friends who have given everything in the name of freedom.

Some were boys recently graduated from high school, going to see the world and make a difference.

Some were fathers and grandfathers who devoted their adulthood to serving our country.

Some were sisters keeping a commitment they made to help pay for school.

I'm sure each one had a different reason for joining the fight to ensure freedom, but they all had the same commitment to give whatever was required.

These tears come for many reasons.

They come for the families and friends left behind.

They come for the soldiers who fought alongside these in their final moments.

They come because there is still a need to fight.

But most of all, my love, they come because you and I have been protected by these.

You fall asleep at night without fear of attack.

You don't know the sound of mortar fire or machine gun.

We worship when and where and how we please.

We come and go, buy and sell, speak and think, learn and grow in freedom because of those who are willing to fight on our behalf.

So the tears are tears of gratitude; a quiet offering of thanks to those who are willing and able to do what I cannot. These are the reasons that Mommy cries at a parade.