day 109: today's weighing heavy on me

For a few reasons.

Heavy air (not a fan of Indiana summers even after 31 years of them)

Heavy emotions (funeral)

Heavy thoughts (funeral)

sigh

And since I couldn't change the fact that there had to be a funeral, I suppose no one could've picked a more well-suited and fitting holiday weekend to have it on that this Fourth of July weekend.

Funerals are tough. That's a given. But military funerals.....war death funerals.......those top everything else.

I simply failed at shutting my brain off, no matter how desperately I wished it'd stop functioning for just a few hours. She was in my direct line of sight through the entire ceremony--the wife, now widow. As I prayed so hard for strength, peace, and faith for her, I prayed just as hard that it would never be me in that chair. As I prayed so fervently for those three blonde headed girls in the chairs next to her, I prayed ten times harder that my three brown-headed girls would never take their spots. Hearing those little girls crying for their Daddy marked more than enough sadness that anyone should have to endure, let alone a child. That sound tore my heart out.

The sights at the cemetery blurred with all the other military burials in my memory. But again, it was the sounds that stood out for me today. Hot, humid wind flapping hundreds of flags. Gloved hands opening military vehicle doors. One large flag tightly pulled and folded. Three sharp volleys that cracked through the air. The one short song that always has me in tears before the third note rings out strong. And then of course, the silent sound of tears streaming down too many faces.

It's 11:00 pm, and I've been hearing fireworks going off all around me now for an hour. In the end, I suppose there's nothing wrong with this weekend being filled with hotdogs, swimming, and fireworks. This is, in all honesty, my favorite holiday of the year. But for some time now, I've never easily connected the "Happy" with my "Fourth of July". I love it.....but it just doesn't make me happy. At all. I love this country, down to my very core. And cookouts. And fireworks. But I can't watch a single fireworks show without crying. This holiday, to me, means so much more than waving an American flag and watching an impressive lights show in the sky.

So do me a favor? When you're at a baseball game this weekend, or a cookout with your family and friends, or when you see those fireworks in all their splendor, say an earnest prayer for the Smith gals, mom and daughters. As we're celebrating our country's independence, it's only because their family is forced to go through an independence of their own, one away from their husband and father.