It was with little hesitation this morning that we unanimously chose to skip the International Spy Museum and get on out of Dodge. Maybe we'll come back to D.C. again one day, but it probably won't be anytime soon, and it definitely won't coincide with spring break.
The Girl said that she would like to see the Iwo Jima Memorial before we left (she is studying WWII in school), so we checked out of the hotel and made our way over to Arlington National Cemetery.
Oh, my. What an experience.
I've seen images of it all my life, but nothing compares to standing at the foot of that monument, looking up at the giant flag whipping against a clear blue sky. The Girl observed the fine detail in the Marines' uniforms, their weapons, even their fingernails...she has an artist's appreciation for such precision.
We then decided to spend some more time at Arlington today. We went over to the main entrance and parked at the visitors' center, then skipped the tour bus and instead walked up the hill to the Tomb of the Unknowns. It was a beautiful day today, with perfect temperatures and cherry blossoms still fresh throughout the cemetery, along with tulips of every conceivable color. Signs posted along the way politely reminded us that these were hallowed grounds and that quiet reverence was in order.
I don't have quite the right words to capture the feelings I had while standing in this gorgeous garden full of generations of dead servicemen and women, overlooking the Pentagon next door. I am all about national defense, and I am proud as I can be of my husband's Navy career, but something about the proximity between the war engine and the cemetery made me feel ill and inexplicably sad. The ceremonial "walking the mat" by the tomb guard of course made me cry; the solemn symbolism of 21 steps and 21 seconds, plus the tomb caption that the occupant is "known only to God", sent tears running down my face. It's all so beautiful and horrible and sad.
It was shocking then, and infuriating to see the casual disregard that many people displayed - a woman chatting away on her cell phone while standing next to the Tomb of the Unknown; teenagers shouting and shoving and running down the hill; people smoking surreptitiously on the hillside...I felt a surge of righteous anger at the overwhelming thoughtlessness. And then the Boy said, "Mom, don't these people know this is a cemetery?" and I realized that a lot of folks just don't know any better. It wasn't that they were trying to be rude or disrespectful - they just don't know better, and it is absolutely not my place to judge them for it.
We had the unexpected privilege of bearing witness to a naval military funeral while we were there today, complete with a band and horse-drawn caisson and cannon fire. I now have a deeper appreciation for being buried with "full military honors." It was an honor to have witnessed it.
Finally left the D.C. area in early afternoon and arrived here in Williamsburg around 4ish. What a difference a couple hundred miles (and a couple hundred years) can make! We left behind the hustle and bustle of a massive metropolitan political center and arrived a short while later in this clean and quiet little hamlet where the fight for all that political freedom began in the first place.
Be careful what you fight for...you may not know what to do with it once you have it.
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