Musing from the Laundromat: Memorial Monday Edition
It’s quiet. It’s Monday. And I’ m here.
There’s a different laundry lady today, and I’m sad I missed my usual one.
There’s something missing from the atmosphere today.
The room feels like a piece of gum that lost its flavor. Bland and more like a chore than an excursion. Then I remind myself, ‘well, it IS a laundromat.’
And I’m wishing I had waited for the coffee to brew before I left the house, because the pot here is as empty as the air is of excitement.
So now I’ve shared my first world problems with you – let’s take a moment to honor what today is all about.
THANK YOU to all who have served their country.
THANK YOU to the men and women who thought protecting the freedom and way of life of their families, friends and complete strangers was worth fighting for.
Worth dying for.
My honey and I spent some time with the neighbors last night. We were invited to join them for some cocktails and to enjoy their vantage point to see the firework. It was a lovely night.
And while America is not my country of origin, I just couldn’t help getting goosebumps when the red, white and blue exploded in the sky.
Like giant, electric dandelions.
This English girl was feeling quite patriotic.
Then I had my usual thought when I hear fireworks – that there are children hearing that same “BOOM!”, only, there are no pretty colors falling from the sky … no ‘OOos’ and ‘Ahhh’s!’ Just … fear.
And our men and women are there too.
And trying to bring an end to the unrest and ever familiar assault on towns – bombs getting closer and closer to that child who’s grown up hearing the chaos.
And here I’m wishing I had a cup of coffee.
So again, THANK YOU to those who have given of themselves for a better today, and THANK YOU to those serving now for a better tomorrow.