I Remember

What I remember about Memorial Day isn't so much about barbecues, beaches and fun. What I remember about Memorial Day is much more solemn than that. I remember to remember. I am the daughter of a veteran of World War II. At our house, on Memorial Day, it was about the parade, the long walk to the cemetery, and Flander's Fields.

Besides knowing that Memorial Day meant school was out for the summer, or at least it was almost time to be out. Memorial Day was such a patriotic day in my childhood. The town parade lined up across the street from our house. We'd get up early, sit on our porch and watch everyone line up. When we were old enough for the long march (a half mile) to the cemetery, we lined up too.

When it was time for the parade to begin, we would walk to the corner next door, and watch the parade. The high school band would march, the fire trucks would be blow their sirens, there would be flags and flags and flags. Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts, the VFW and the American Legion, special people in cars, it seemed everyone in town would be in the parade. I thought it was fun! Every kid loves a parade!

But as I got older, able to march to the cemetery as a part of the parade, it became sadder to me. I realized the reason we marched. We marched to honor the men and women who died in wars. I didn't know them, they didn't know me. But they died fighting in a war for me, for you and millions of others they never knew.

I remember service people from the base in my home town, everyone saying the pledge, and singing the Star Spangled Banner. I remember the list of names of the dead that was always read. I remember taps played far off from the crowd, it's lonely sound wafting through the tombstones and trees. I remember the 21 gun salute, and to this day, when I hear that salute, it always takes me back to those ceremonies. I remember the old men in uniform and how every year there were less and less of them. I remember a high school senior read "In Flanders Fields" every year. I remember the green, green grass, the sunshine through the trees and of course, the poppies were always blooming. I remember.

So this day is always sad for me. It's not about those currently fighting in lands abroad, or those who fought in years past and came home to families. While they are important, I am grateful. This day is to remember those who gave their lives for us, the Ultimate Sacrifice. So we can enjoy our days of freedom, however we wish.

Today, I thank them for that.