War is confusion. War is detached horror.

I mention this only to point out that those Americans who grappled with man's worst did so to preserve man's best. As we approach yet another Memorial Day, it hardly seems enough to remember these soldiers in clichés of gallantry.

It is not appropriate to dress up in historical garb and fondly re-enact the bloodiest chapters of our history — as do Civil War and World War enthusiasts. It is not enough to reduce the service of our patriots to an excuse for a really big sale — as do retailers. It is not enough to dilute this holiday with ostentatious displays of consumerism and pageantry.

After all, the importance of celebrating Memorial Day is not to celebrate per se, but to confirm the significance of lost lives. By coming together in a large communal ritual, we reinforce the notion that these soldiers, that these people, have actually died. And that they died to strengthen our individual freedoms.

After the fighting in their various wars, some of our soldiers returned home with tattered minds and spirits, only to be held in lower regard than the enemy they had struggled to defeat. Some were still relegated to the back of the bus because of the color of their skin; others never lived long enough to see the civil rights legislation of the ’60s.

Yet they fought for an idea so powerful that it moved many of them to die for their country. We cannot forget that what is best about this country rests on their shoulders. With that in mind, I offer these simple words of thanks.