When Big Papa and I were growing up, both of our families placed a flag in front of our home on Memorial Day. Many of our neighbors did the same.

Decades later, the absence of flags in our city makes me take notice. We are the only house on our block, on our street, and probably one of the few in our neighborhood to carry on this tradition.

I remember how proud my father was of our flag, a flag his father received when he became a U.S. citizen. As a little girl, I was taught to treat the flag with respect, because it represented those who fought and died, so that we could be free.

Here in the U.S., we are far removed from experiencing the horrors of war–in our own backyards. And for that, I am grateful. Every day, when I read the news, I am struck by how many countries are in conflict, cities destroyed, their citizens living in fear, dying or being scattered to the winds in refugee camps.

As we enjoy our BBQs and a day off from work, take a moment to remember what Memorial Day means. Our freedom to enjoy this day came at great cost.

Take the road less traveled, Beth