Day 124 - Arlington

I've been to Arlington National Cemetery twice in my life - both times, it was raining (lightly.)

I experience an odd mixture of emotions when I visit this vast graveyard.  To see the graves of people who have given their lives in service to this country is something that affects me. 

Matt and I were talking about how strange it must be for soldiers to come here and visit their friends, their platoon-mates - knowing that it's also a huge tourist attraction.  How does that make them feel?

I told him that I hope it gives them peace.  I hope that as they serve, willingly risking their life, that they know they will not be forgotten.  As long as people come to visit this cemetery, their name will be seen.  Their service will be remembered.  Their sacrifice will be understood.

The tomb of the unknown soldier, and the ceremony that protects it, really puzzled me as a 12 year old.  It seemed like a lot of hoop-la for a grave that held no danger of being robbed.  Why did it need to be guarded so?  And why so much pomp? 

But as I was trying to explain it to my 8 year old niece on this last trip, I told her that all of the ceremony and precision and pomp was to let people know that our government is making a statement.  There are men who died serving our country that we do not know the names of.  But we will not forget them.  We will not forget anyone who died serving for the freedom we have today.   

And we really must never forget that our freedom was indeed not free.

Matt's grandfather is buried at Arlington - so we made a visit to his body's resting place.  Matt had not been there since his burial in 1995.  Walter Sheridan served in the US Navy as a submarine radioman.  He was a RM3.  He also brought down Jimmy Hoffa and was personal friends with the Kennedy family.  He has quite a family legacy - I wish I could have known him.

Cemeteries are strange things to me.  Because I believe that we are souls who have bodies (not the other way around) and because I believe that our souls are eternal, a resting place for a body that is going to turn back to dust seems......unnecessary.  In the other countries I have visited, there have not been cemeteries (that I have seen.)  I know they are not a new idea - I'm well aware of the tombs of the Egyptians.  I think they are good, don't get me wrong, but I don't ever want to be in one.  My body is going to die.  My flesh and bones are going to rot and decompose.  I don't want my body to be remembered.  

I want my soul to.  

I want my life's work to be what people remember.  I want to leave a legacy of giving and serving and helping people.  I want people to remember me as a person who loved God and people and who walked with Jesus - trying to follow in His footsteps as closely as possible.  I have far to go. 

I am so thankful for the freedom I have as an Amercian - given to me freely, without any merit of my own - by soldiers like this one.  

I am even more thankful, though, for the freedom I have as a Christian - given to me freely, without any merit of my own - by the ultimate servant, Jesus.