Folding the Flag

In the middle of making taco salad this evening my husband asked if I had a minute to help him with something. Without looking up I said "You bet!" expecting to balance a board or hold a wrench. When I stepped away from the stove I couldn't help but ask "Where did you get that?" surprised at the tattered and dirty American flag roughly the size of our couch.

"Your dad asked me to bring it to John (my brother in law) so the scouts can dispose of it appropriately." 

As I held one end and he started folding from the other I was completely caught off guard by the flood of emotions.

With each fold I thought of my Dad serving, and my Grandfather. I remembered the anthem playing as we picked my dad up from work on the base. I remembered holding my hand over my heart at a parade. My first feeling of reverence. I thought of the first time I saw the Vietnam memorial, how the names went on and on, and as he reached me...I held my breath to keep the irrepressible tear for the many women who have been handed a folded flag for their husbands and sons who gave everything for the love of our country.

I don't know the story of the flag I saw tonight but there is power in a symbol like that. Just like my wedding ring was more than a metal and stone band the moment it was given with a promise, the flag was so much more than a piece of fabric, from the moment the first one was sewn with a hope. When I pledge allegiance to this flag I am showing my devotion to the principles it represents, the virtues our founding fathers stood for. Liberty, honor, sacrifice. When a symbol carries that kind of weight and history you can't help but feel it. Those virtues are the ones that band us together as Americans, even when it feels like we are tearing a part.

Lately I've been feeling uninspired to patriotism. Disillusioned at our electoral system and embarrassed at the public's preference of representation, I've frequently thought "It's come to this? What could possibly be next? Is there anything left to be proud of?" and tonight I got my answer.

Yes. There is something to be proud of in being American. While we have our problems and make our mistakes. We have a brilliant courageous heritage. Our foundation is strong and even if we have to fall apart to build back up, I know we can, as long as the flag still flies for liberty and justice under God.