It’s a little late in the day, or the long holiday weekend for that matter, to be posting about Memorial Day I suppose (if I have any readers outside the U.S., that is a holiday honoring those who have died while in military service to the country). But given that I have a household full of sickies this weekend (myself included), I hope I can be forgiven.

Certainly, not all who die in military service are heroes. But most of the people in the military are there because they believe they have a patriotic duty, and they take the safety of their country seriously. Seriously enough to leave limbs, peace of mind and sometimes even their lives behind. I have had serious disagreements with most conflicts in which the U.S. has engaged during my lifetime, but that doesn’t dilute the respect I have for those who wear the uniforms of the various U.S. military branches with honor and dignity.

With so many having died in Iraq alone—not just U.S. service men and women but Iraqi citizens as well—I am reminded that everything I do here in this country and everything that I enjoy has been paid for in blood at some point—sometimes the blood of soldiers, sometimes the blood of abused workers in other countries, sometimes the blood of other people entirely. That bloodletting doesn’t always involve death, and it’s not the divine kind of blood that Jesus shed for our sins, but it’s blood nonetheless.

Sometimes blood has been shed with good cause and sometimes not, but people have bled all the same. Looking to those who have served the U.S., I have this to say: For the majority who survived, I say “God bless.” To those who have perished in honorable service and to their families, I say “Thank you.” I look forward to the day when we won’t have to send our sons and daughters to die for any cause.