A Year of Blogging: May 30, 2011

May 30 was Memorial Day. For my non-US readers, Memorial Day is the day set aside to honor those who have died serving our country. I really feel so many people have lost the meaning of Memorial Day. It is often referred to as the 'unofficial start of summer'. It's a rare three day weekend, and people make plans to go to the lake, have a family reunion, cook food on the grill, and relax. While I enjoy my three day weekend, I also remember why I have a three day weekend. My hometown has a Memorial Day parade every year. The Memorial Day parade is shorter than the 4th of July parade. There are no floats. There were a couple of antique cars (all owned by the same guy- I loved his car collection!), the school band, some horses, and marching groups. The firemen marched. The American Legion marched. The parade started at one of the churches near our house, and went down Main Street, stopping at the monument to honor the soldiers of the community. A prayer is said at the monument while the Color Guard places a wreath. Then the parade continues through town, ending at the cemetery. Taps is played and guns are fired in salute. The Memorial Day parade always had a more somber feel than the 4th of July parade. We all knew why we were there. There were two parts of the parade I loved. The American Legion always sold the red poppies, and Dad bought each of us one every year. Once I was old enough to carry a purse, I wound the wire of the poppy around the strap of my purse, and carried it until the poppy disintegrated. It served as a reminder to me of the cost of freedom. The other part of the parade that I enjoyed was the Color Guard. Here were friends and neighbors, people we went to church with, saw every day in town, or babysat their children. Yet they were also veterans. To see them dressed in their military dress uniforms was breathtaking. Sure, in our small town, the Color Guard members were always the same five men. But it still made an impression; hit home for me. In February, when I was home for Grandma's funeral, I heard Grandpa telling some of my younger cousins about his time in the Navy. They seemed surprised to hear Grandpa had been in the Navy. I wondered how they could not have known this. No person's service should be viewed as so insignificant that their family doesn't know about it. Thank you to all of my friends and family who have protected the USA. Your time and sacrifice are appreciated, and may we never forget how lucky we are.