Thursday, May 26, 2005

To Remember Them

What is Memorial Day all about? For most people, Monday is just another day off. It’s an occasion to sleep late, relax at the beach, or enjoy potato salad at family barbeques.

Several years ago, my family started a new tradition of observing certain holidays by honoring the reasons they became holidays in the first place. On the Fourth of July, for example, we take turns reading the Declaration of Independence. Charities devoted to former soldiers need help on Veteran’s Day and urban renewal projects look for volunteers on Martin Luther King Day. On Labor Day, we watch Grapes of Wrath. See the pattern? We acknowledge the meaning behind days off, teach our children some history, and serve our community at the same time. Everyone wins.

Memorial Day is an annual opportunity to pay tribute to those who have died for our country. There are many ways to demonstrate our appreciation and remembering them is the least we can do. Grateful Americans attend services at military cemeteries and wear red poppies to show they haven’t forgotten the fallen. Flags are proudly displayed, Taps is played, speeches made, and graves visited.

Early in this new “family tradition”, I remember looking around a tranquil Bay Pines National Cemetery in St. Petersburg during its Memorial Day ceremony and feeling embarrassed at all the empty seats. After the terrorist attacks on 9/11, attendance rose sharply and finding parking spaces became more difficult. Seats continue to fill as Afghanistan and Iraq remind us of sacrifices our soldiers continue to make on a daily basis. Yet, I will be saddened Monday morning that more people aren’t in attendance when I sit down and pin poppies on my children’s shirts. Is an hour too much to give to those who have given everything for our country, for us?

When people ask about my plans this weekend, I will measure my words and try not to sound sanctimonious. I will appeal to their sense of patriotism, especially in this day and age, and invite them to make the drive to St. Petersburg or any locally organized observances. There are many to choose from and a beautiful morning is expected. It’s also one of those rare moments when we can all come together, put aside our differences, and say thank you to millions of sons and daughters who have paid the ultimate price for our liberty and freedom.

I will also tell them it only lasts a short while, leaving plenty of time to head back to the beach, barbeque or bed. Then I will ask them again to please, join us.

6 Comments:

At 5/26/2005, Anonymous Anonymous said...

For the wannabe nuns who insist on reading this even though it requires a trip to the confessional afterwards: no cursing this week. You're welcome.

 
At 5/27/2005, Anonymous Anonymous said...

When I say, "my family started a new tradition," I mean "I started a new tradition, and if you know what's good fer ya, you'll play along." Can I get some sleep now?

 
At 5/27/2005, Anonymous Anonymous said...

But I'll let you and my parents take credit as well for raising such socially aware children. I don't mind sharing...

 
At 5/27/2005, Anonymous Anonymous said...

I'm a cross-dressing commie.

 
At 5/28/2005, Blogger MitchRobinsonAces said...

I have never known a moment when you did not sound sanctimonious.
How could you force my son to become a veggie-only eating machine. That certainly shows a high degree of sanctity.

And the only thing my grandchildren eat when they eat out is elbow macaroni dipped in gooey cheese. That, certainly is a high degree of sanctification.

And, then trying to tell your readers that your family started a new tradition. Do you really think without you they not only wouldn't have come up with that idea but certainly never would have followed through with it.

Just make sure that the poppies you pin on my grandchildren didn't come from Afghanistan.

All in all, it is a pretty good idea--even if it's being force-fed.

 
At 5/28/2005, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Let's get one thing straight: the boys eat grilled cheese, too.

I knew some smart ass would get me on the sanctimonious comment.

At least I'm not forcing my kids up at the crack of dawn to do jumping jacks and push-ups. This tradition will at least last a while instead of being replaced with processed snacks and television. We can't all rock like you.

 

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