AS A CHILD, Memorial Day was the day of the year when I would get a glimpse of what it was like to be grown up.
I rarely saw my parents sad, and I can count the number of times I saw my mother in tears on the fingers of one hand.
However, when we went to visit the cemetery on Memorial Day - without knowing it - I was peeking ahead in time to the days I would visit my own parents and wish I could talk with them again and thank them for all the good times they gave us when we were children. Even though we didn't have much, we had a roof over our head, food on the table, laughter and love.
When we visited my grandmother's grave, my mother would grow quiet and arrange her offering of flowers. We kids would run around the cemetery reading the funny names and, sometimes, we would pause at the graves with American flags next to their headstones. I'm sure if we'd done the math we would have noticed some of these "names" died fairly young during the years of World War II.
Today we will visit the cemetery where my parents and grandparents rest.
However, Memorial Day is also for remembering those killed in our nation's wars.
I hope you will take the opportunity on Monday at 3 p.m., your local time, as I will, to offer up one minute of time to remember, and thank, those who gave their lives for our country. If we do not actively choose to participate in ending all wars, we, too, have asked them for their contribution.
On a happier note, the picture above is of a dozen roses the Mister picked me in our back yard. He brought them to me cupped in both of his hands and now they are floating in this glass bowl. The smell is heavenly. - Have a safe weekend - femminismo
P.S. Don't forget Towel Day, in memory of Douglas Adams, tomorrow - all day long.