Flag from the WTC, September 11, 2001. I took this photo at the September 11 exhibit at the Fort Worth Museum of Science and History. 

Nothing says "honor your soldiers" like "come buy a mattress." I don't know when this came about in our pop culture's history. And I'm just amazed by the number of people I've run into who listed "shopping" as part of their Memorial Day weekend.

I'm not sure what I'm going to do with my day off. I may not go to an actual memorial service, but I hope to set aside some time to think about the freedoms I have. The freedom to read. To speak in public. To own and drive a car. To have a job and earn money. To openly practice my faith. To criticize my government. To vote (a right acquired fairly recently).

These freedoms weren't earned cheaply, nor are they protected without cost. Therefore, I ought not to exercise them without care, intelligence and caution. And I should be grateful.

I have a book of nearly 2000 photos from September 11. And when I lose my focus, when the commercialism of our culture begins to numb my emotions, I pull out that book to remember that day. The event that changed our country, my life, forever. And those photos bring back the raw, sick emotion that made me feel more human than I have ever felt in my life. Being alive on that day was more simple than any other day. Things that were really important became the focus. And each day since then those priorities have become fuzzier and fuzzier. I'm precariously close to accepting the complacency that leads me astray.

But these photos give me the powerful reality check that I need. What really is important?