In Remembrance

My friend PJ told me the other day that she's decided to reclaim the American flag as her own. She mentioned this as we sat in my office, a substantial American flag (my officemate's) hanging behind me.

"I'm tired of my flag being co-opted and made to represent people who I disagree with," she said. "I'm tired of it meaning something it wasn't supposed to mean. I want to embrace everything my flag stands for."

In some ways, it seems like a lifetime since that beautiful September morning when our world changed, but still the pain, though dulled by time, feels raw, inflamed by violence and war and conflict.

There's nothing like an election year to galvanize Americans, but this year seems more volatile than most. The flag has come to mean "those who are with us," with the implied sense that "those who are against us" aren't worthy to fly it or display it. If that's what America looks like united, then I dread ever seeing it divided.

But today is not the day for me to wax political. I mention the flag not to villanize it or those who would claim it, but to remind myself of those days that followed the world-altering morning three years ago, before countries were invaded, before bombs were detonated, in which people joined together to begin to mend what was broken.

I, too, am ready to reclaim my flag.