My Son, the Patriot

“…The Lord deal kindly with you, as you have dealt with the dead and with me.” Ruth 1:8

Last year on Memorial Day, my son, a veteran, decided to hold a small ceremony on his front patio, and he invited my husband and I to join him, his wife, and their children. The flag was in its holder, flying gently in the evening breeze. The four of them stood in front of the flag, and my husband and I stood just a bit off to the side.

My son then announced that first they would hear “Taps” being played. He told us that it signified the “end of watch” for the soldier being retired into the ground. As the music began on his cell phone, he slowly raised his rigid right hand in a salute to the flag. He stood very still, eyes staring at the flag. His young son saw his dad’s salute, and raised his hand in salute as well. When the song was over, my son’s hand came down slowly with perfect form, until it was at rest at his side.

Then, my son took a little bell and turned to face us. He said he would ring a bell for each soldier, sailor, or airman who had died whose name he would say. He dinged the bell clearly and said the name of someone he personally knew who had served our country in military service and had died. The bell-ringing and names continued for a short time. Several of these names were our family members from previous generations.

I couldn’t hold back my emotions. I always get emotional when I count the cost of those who served, and the cost their families paid as well. But the real tears began when my son couldn’t hold back his own tears. He choked out the names as best he could, but with each ding of the bell, he cried harder. He hung in there, though. Finally he said, “That’s all I’ve got.”

His tears continued for a few minutes. His son went up and put his arms around his dad’s waist and hugged him gently. Then my son turned to his wife and buried his face in her hair. Their young daughter, with very little understanding of what was happening, put her arms around her mom’s waist. She knew, if nothing else, it was a time for hugging.

I could tell of other times my son has honored the dead in veteran’s cemeteries or on all-night watches for a just-fallen vet not yet buried. I am so proud of him.

My heart longs for the day when he feels this same camaraderie with the saints—the day he is not only proud of this country, but looking for that country that is to come. “But now they desire a better, that is, a heavenly country. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for He has prepared a city for them” (Hebrews 11:16).

Lord, show us ways to honor the living and the dead who have served us so well. And would you show us all, as we look to our own country, that country that is to come, in which You have prepared a city for us. Amen.

Author’s P.S.: Since this writing one year ago, my son and his wife have begun to walk with the Lord.