Memorial Day Revisited

Every year memorial day means more to me and I urge you to examine your feelings, too. As a child I remember it as a good reason to have a picnic. Following world war II, it was a time for parades, flags flying and soldiers. My family also took flowers to the graves of loved ones passed. At movies we would look at the newsreels which in those days were are only way to see the news on a screen. Television was yet to come into homes. As I was saying, the newsreels brought us scenes of the war when the war was still going on, and my favorites were the marching veterans with all the pride and cheering they deserved. Sometimes on bandstands or simply walking feebly down the middle of the street would be old men with long white beards. These were the last of the survivors of the civil war. I have always felt lucky to have been born long enough ago to have witnessed them marching.

As a child, this was:

• Interesting but not as interesting as it has become after living almost 8 decades myself
  
• Interesting, but not as interesting as it has become after spending July 1,2 & 3 (the three days it took to finish the battle of Gettysburg) on the battle field. Driving it with a guide, walking much of it, driving a convertible (top down) playing a sound trackof the movie Gettysburg and staying in a house that stood during the battle.
• Interesting but not as interesting as standing at the grave of my husband's Great Grandfather, James Ferguson, who left his home in Neillsville, Wisconsin at the age of 14 with the brave men of that State who signed up and headed to war.  James fought in 10 major battles Shiloh and Vicksburg. He survived and went home when the war ended to become the postmaster. In the 1890s he and his family migrated to Tacoma Washington and then over the mountains to Wenatchee, where he continued to do all he could to build a better world. He was the mayor in 1898 and 1899, and his son Ed became known as the Wenatchee Kid. He was the first town marshal, built the first jail, started the first band and built the first theater.
• Interesting but not as real as the pain and loss we felt four years ago when the phone rang and we were told that our youngest son had been killed in a huge avalanche. Norm and I have always taken care of flowers for the family graves and as strong as I feel about honoring our heros, nothing brings it home like a personal loss.
  

Memorial day also means more after visiting the Vietnam Wall, living through 9-11, burying our parents, attending funerals of extended family members and friends, as well as coming in touch with our own mortality.

I still make the potato salad for the weekend picnic, but the picnic is now a celebration of life and love more than ever. Before heading to the family cabin we take flowers to the cemetery and in doing so, honor the memories that still nurture all of us. It is wonderful to see people all over the cemetery trimming around the head stones, polishing the surface and arranging the flowers. We meet people every year who have come long distances for this silent thank you! Often we take Jim Ferguson red white and blue flowers and snap another picture of his Grand Army of the Republic marker. There is a vase on the back of the bench on the dock and we place Jim's there in his favorite place. Some times we come up and someone else has left some there for Jimmy, too.

I encourage everyone to savor time with loved ones at your next Memorial Day festivities and together maybe we can keep this powerful day meaningful in a number of ways.