I picked up the geraniums from the cemetery this morning. They’d survived well, even though we had some heavy rain during the time they were out. In fact, they looked great, and now greet people who come to my front door.
The holiday was a quiet meditation for me. I didn’t even break out so much as a hotdog or a flag to proclaim some patriotic American ideal. Many people died in the belief what they did for their country was noble and promoted something good. Good enough. Let’s not spoil it with irony.