Family.

Maybe I've mentioned it before, but I don't know of a single member of my family on either side that died fighting for the United States of America. A lot us only got here recently -- like, in the last century or so -- and since then we've all been either too old or too young when a crisis broke out that was beyond the capacity of the standing forces. One of the men was 4-F with asthma, though he tried to enlist; another was old enough to join in World War II only as it was coming to a close; another did die while serving, but at home, in peacetime, of natural causes. 

The most recent miss was 9/11. But I was too old, too out of shape, and had absolutely no skills that the military would have deemed necessary enough to waive my lack of youth and vigor. Being able to translate English into... better English is not something they care that much about.

But I hope that I'm not presumptuous to claim a familial loyalty to those who loved America enough to put their lives in danger, to face the possibility of the ultimate sacrifice, although mine is a loyalty far less tested than theirs proved to be. I hope everyone who loves the United States and the principles upon which it was founded -- principles that we seem so far away from now, alas -- can find the feeling of brotherhood with those who died in service for all our benefit. 

We salute our honored dead on this Memorial Day weekend. We should not and shall not ever forget. The blood is far too strong.