In my eyes, Memorial day is the start of summer. The nice weather is finally here that makes you want to go outside and do something. For me, it’ll be something that gets dirt under my fingernails and forces me to find the sunscreen. It’ll be the type of day that reminds us why we live here in the first place.
But more importantly, Memorial Day is a day to remember the people we’ve lost. The men and women that wore the uniform for this country and made sure we have the freedom to enjoy each and every day. The very same people that had no idea what that uniform had in store for them when their lives were just beginning. They had the same hopes and dreams we all have. But theirs were put on hold, and for some, they never even had time to realize their dreams.
On Memorial Day, I’ve always lived by a strict schedule. At 9:00 AM, the men from the Mantador VFW Post will be at the St. Peter and Paul’s cemetery, by 9:30 they will be at Belford Cemetery, and then off to Great Bend, with each location receiving the same ceremony. A prayer will be offered by the Post Pastor beside a gravesite where a Veteran has been buried. It’ll be followed by the placement of a flag and 21-gun salute. All of this is done by men in uniforms that may be too tight while holding guns that might jam. It’s nothing as precise as Arlington, but just as beautiful.
Memorial Day is also a day to remember the people in our lives that we’ve lost. Sue and I now find ourselves without parents after Sue’s mother, Josephine, passed away this winter. She was a tough, old broad that loved her family as much as any person could. She’s one more grave to place flowers on and one more person to memorialize.
Now, my grandkids can enjoy a lake that’s warming and a pontoon to jump off of. But that doesn’t change the fact that a lot of people came before them to make sure they have this privilege. People whose names they may never know, but need to thank nonetheless.
People they need to memorialize.
Good riding with you,
Joel
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