Memorial Day 2017

Memorial Day 2017

So many lives

sacrificed

for 

our freedom

Photo: Microsoft Clip Organizer

© poem 2017 Red convertible Travel Series

Remembering. Memorial Day 2013

We are One Nation Under God 

indivisible 

with liberty and justice for all.

 Remembering the many who gave their all
Appreciating their sacrifice and our freedom.

 Remembering the soldiers closest to my heart
scared, brave, courageous
 night sweats, malaria bouts, nightmares, regrets, guilt,
standing for the Pledge of Allegiance with hand over heart,
deep love of the USA

 Honoring the named,
the unknown who didn't come home
the families without closure

Remembering the far away and long ago
General Patton buried with his men

2013 Red Convertible Travel Series

MEMORIAL WEEKEND 2011

With appreciation and gratitude we remember those who fought and still fight for freedom, ours and others.

Dense, sky-reaching trees surround a thirty acre clearing in the Hills that could have been the setting for a pow-wow, Civil War battle, or Mississippi mule race.

In the shade of the truck we unpacked our lawn chairs and coolers. JB looked around for someone to talk to; imagine that! It wasn't long before he returned with a new friend. "Have some craw fish," he offered from the bushel he'd won in a coin toss the night before. The guy was thrilled. So was JB. The guy offered him a new place to hunt.

5 pm, race time at Grenada County Dirt Track, Gore Springs. Engines roared or chattered. A few drivers red lighted, took off too soon. Once was forgiven; two cost the driver the race.

There's chatter on the sidelines, too. Whose truck is the baddest? Who can run he three-hundred feet the fastest? Roughly four and a half seconds of roar, zoom and dust separated the men from the boys. The pink modified truck "Here Kitty Kitty" ran like a scalded car. Near midnight the winner by elimination was the black Chevy Luv, "Tasmanian Devil". But our night wasn't over. We had a long drive and two road blocks to clear.

I'm the DD, Designated Driver, and forever grateful I burned myself on booze the first time I imbibed what I thought was punch. Tasteless vodka was the culprit. Two days of recovery convinced me to not adopt the habit. We cleared a hill and there they were thick as lice: racing lights blazing and bright flashlights zeroed on faces and documents. I handed over my MS license and proof of insurance. One look and I was cleared. Did I look honest and sober, or was it my age?????

We hope you had a great weekend. Take care and God Bless!

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

LOCAL VETERANS LAID TO REST

Memorial Day, Wahoo, NE Cemetery

Another year, more veterans laid to rest. Each name is hand-written on a white cross. We weave among them searching for friends and family.

Mary Jones, AKA Mother Jones, said, "Pray for the dead. Fight like hell for the living."

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

MAY 2008 MEMORIAL DAY

Each flag represents a fallen veteran from our community, Leonard and George included. Leonard shook his fist when he said, "Freedom is worth fighting for." He should know. He was drafted before WWII and came back when it was over: 4 years, 2 months and 27 days total.

My grandparents called Memorial Day Decoration Day, which it was until 1971 when Congress declared Memorial Day a national holiday. Decoration Day was declared May 30, 1868 to commemorate the sacrifices of Civil War Soldiers.

We decorate our graves with fresh peonies, if we have them. Cool weather can keep the buds from opening and makes the ants work harder. In nature everything has a purpose/job.

My ancestors came from Sweden and England to make a better life. Leonard's came from Moravia. They traveled by covered wagon, broke sod and built barns with pegs not nails. Their dead were buried in unmarked graves along the trails.

As I decorate and contemplate where family "rests," my late husband, Leonard, my parents, grandparents and Aunt Bobbe lived a total of 463 years. Methuselah lived more than 900 years. We are living longer than our ancestors. Do you want to live to be 100, or 150? If I could be assured I would look as good as I did at thirty and feel even better, I might. But what would we do with 40 or more years of retirement? Would we get everything done? Can we afford it?

Contemplate this: It's your 150th birthday. All your descendants come for the party, and the Fire Department, really. Don't worry about accommodations for sleeping, they won't. The problems will be parking, having enough food and toilet paper, and the neighbors. Better invite them too. And have a Happy Birthday!

I hope you have a pleasant and safe Memorial Day.

2008 Red Convertible Travel Series

Remembering

MSN photo

Memorial Day: the day set aside to remember those who fought and died for freedom; those who fought and survived; those who sacrificed to support them; and family and friends who died unrelated to wars. Thank you all for your contribution to life.

We hang our flag and remember receiving one when Papa died. He did his time in the Pacific Theatre of WWII. For the past two weeks JB has been a patient at the VA hospital in Omaha, NE. He's amazed the operating surgeons visit him everyday. Dedicated staff, they live and breathe their work. Over all, it's been a positive experience. We are grateful. God Bless them.

copyright 2007 Red Convertible Travel Series

Remembering: Memorial Day 2006

... the day we officially remember family and friends who've passed. The cemetery at home is marked with a white cross for each deceased veteran. Our family's slim urns are filled with seasonal artificial flowers - they last, just as our thoughts of them do. As I stand at their graves I wonder who will tend them after we're gone. We are a small family.

In France Jani and I visited a cemetery with porcelain flowers that were purchased at the local feed store. Some graves were old, untended, and the ground around them had caved in. The horror movies had us worried about walking too close for fear a bony hand would reach up and grab our ankles.

In Germany and Switzerland the graves were decorated with growing flowers. It was a competetion between the mature women as to who had the best looking graves.

We've visited the Coptic Church and Cemetery in Cairo, Egypt. The grounds are locked. Small houses are built over the graves for the family of the deceased to accept visitors, share food and drink. The body is placed in a casket under the house where it will reside until another needs the box. Bones are left under the house and the casket recycled. With low humidity the only odors we noticed were exhaust fumes. Public cemeteries have a few benches, some covered. Beggars can be found living there.

We spend time building relationships. When someone passes, we spend time adjusting to the gap. The best thing I can do for someone who passes is to continue to love them. This is not goodbye, I'll see you later. They've changed form, but their life hasn't skipped a beat. I hope my family and friends will do the same for me. Formally I remember them today, but they are never more than a thought away ,and they live in my heart forever.

copyright 2006 Red Convertible Travel Series

USA Memorial Day

At Bitburg, Germany we met a man who, as a child, had helped his dad in food service and served General Patton. The General complimented this twelve-year old making a lasting impression on him. He glowed with pride and told us where to find Patton's grave. A fellow from our home community had been on the Color Guard for his burial.

At the American Cemetery and Memorial in Hamm, Luxemborg we stood at Patton's grave not set apart from his men, but with them as he wanted. It was a warm day. From a marble bench we prayed for and thanked them and left puddles of sweat. Our contribution would dry up, but theirs was permanent.

Solemnly we walked above the Normandy Beaches. Posted signs caution against walking below as there are still unexploded mines. This day all was silent, even the visitors. Back at our Auberge our host twisted up his face and said he'd seen more than he could talk about.

At Colleville Sur Mer the 170 acre American cemetery holds the remains of those who contributed their all to the cause of freedom. The American director said the perfectly aligned crosses are set in a trench of concrete.

At Dachau, Germany we spoke with the President of the Survivors. "He said he was there to be sure the ovens were never again lit for that purpose." To our surprise he was not a bitter man inspite of his parents and first wife dying while all were imprisoned. He married again and they had a son. The Press arrived to interview him. He laughed and said to watch him make a fool of himself.

Our bellies in our throats we walked through the crematorium trying not to imagine its horrors. Images surfaced anyway remembering the words of a fellow from our home that was here liberation day. "They were so emaciated we couldn't tell the men from the women. An American soldier threw a piece of candy that landed in the barbed-wire. Naked prisoners dove in risking deep cuts and scratches; anything for a bite of food."

My late husband was a generation older than I and a WWII veteran plagued with nightmares and bouts with malaria. When he passed on I hoped his meeting with the Creator would go like so:

Seen the horrors of war, dear one,

The man began to weep

No more, no more! the Good God cried

I'm granting you Grace and Peace

In death their souls have returned to God to be rewarded and made whole. Grace and Peace to all who have fought, and who do fight for freedom.

copyright 2005 Red Convertible Travel Series