I don't know about you (particularly those readers who are younger than 40), but Memorial day, for me, always evokes the red poppies that the American Legion used to sell to aid the US service men and women. (Sad to not see that being done any longer) It was always special as well as the giant peonies that used to grow in my grandmother's yard. Each year we waited to see if they would open their blooms on this day... miraculously, they always did. :) Every year as a child, my father would give me a dollar to give to them and I would get my poppy. As an adult, I gave them five dollars for my poppy and oh how proud I was to wear it for weeks after....
Each year, while I was growing up, we also had a Mass at Saint Joseph's Church cemetery. Graves of those who had served in the military were decorated with the American Flag and mom and dad always planted red geraniums in the planters beside all the graves of our departed family members. On that day the town would also gather on the lawn outside of the high school to remember those who had given their time and even their lives to protect our country and to fight for justice.
I remember the speeches given by our Mayor (and school Librarian) Donna Strickland Rodden. This woman was also my Brownie leader, my Girl Scout Leader and my mentor who taught me the true meaning of patriotism, love of country, and self sacrifice.
This weekend is still a traditional day for many to visit the graves of their family loved ones and say a prayer for them. My loved one, my Doug, is not buried in a grave or a field, but his ashes were scattered several years ago up at Oak Creek Canyon where he now roams the mountains, desert, and streams of the great land he honored and protected for 20 years of honorable service as a Navy Corpsman/Preventive Medicine Corpsman.
Although Oak Creek Canyon is unaffordable for me to get to this year, and as so many of us live at great distances from our family homes, we can still gather in Church that day and pray for all in our families. Or we can (as I will be doing) visit a local cemetery and express our thanks and gratitude to all. The cemetery may be large and immaculately kept; it may be small with decaying wooden crosses and fading slate stone markings; it may be in the corner of a pasture with only the barbed wire fences keeping out the animals that roam; it may be abandoned with no one to care for it. For all of these cemeteries, wherever they ay be, we extend our blessing and our prayers. At least for these, we know the sites.
How many more of our early pioneers were buried along the roadside, with nothing more to mark their graves as time passed them by? How many have been lost at sea or on battle fields and unknown to the world?
The Unknown Soldier
~Billys Rose~
There's a graveyard near the White House
Where the Unknown Soldier lies,
And the flowers there are sprinkled
With the tears from mother's eyes.
I stood there not so long ago
With roses for the brave,
And suddenly I heard a voice
Speak from out the grave:
"I am the Unknown Soldier,
The spirit voice began
"And I think I have the right
To ask some questions man to man.
"Are my buddies taken care of?
Was their victory so sweet?
Is that big reward you offered
Selling pencils on the street?
"Did they really win the freedom
They battled to achieve?
Do you still respect that Croix de Guerre
Above that empty sleeve?
"Does a gold star in the window
Now mean anything at all?
I wonder how my old girl feels
When she hears a bugle call.
"And that baby who sang
Hello, Central, give me no man's land.
Can they replace her daddy
With a military band?
"I wonder if the profiteers
Have satisfied their greed?
I wonder if a soldier's mother
Ever is in need?
"I wonder if the kings, who planned it all
Are really satisfied?
They played their game of checkers
And eleven million died.
"I am the Unknown Soldier
And maybe I died in vain,
But if I were alive and my country called,
I'd do it all over again.
We pray for them as well.
But remembering doesn't just have to be once or twice a year and it should NOT be. We remember our loved ones who have preceded us in death every day of our lives. The smallest thing can trigger memories..
- A flag
- A song like the Battle hymn of the Republic or on Eagles Wings
- A bagpiper playing Amazing Grace
- A bugler blowing Taps
- A cross
- A card
- A piece of clothing
- the scent or grass, roses, cologne...
Happy Memorial Day everyone! May it be a day of prayer; a day of love; a day of blessings and honor for all of our family members - both living and dead. And, may it also be a day we pray for peace, the end of war and injustice, and for a time of family and neighborly love and forgiveness.
Celebrate this day... celebrate it well. Let us never forget the devotion and service of these brave men and women to God, Country, and Family.
God bless the USA
In Flanders Fields
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
