I always go to the cemetery to honor my grandfather on Memorial Day. He was in the Air Force. He did not die in a war, but in a hospital two years ago, of Sepsis. He was strong and courageous, and I love him.
Sometimes my whole family goes to honor him, but this year I went alone to place a flag on his grave.
I stayed for a while, thinking about the good times I was blessed to have with him.
One of our family traditions, when Pop Pop was with us, was to attend our town's Memorial Day Parade together. We went ever since I can remember, waving our flags and having a great time catching the candy the parade participants threw.
My dad and I would wake up early that Monday morning and drive the truck to our usual spot across from the Post Office, which would offer the perfect amount of shade when the parade occurred later that day.
We would set up folding chairs, a blanket for the ground, and an ice cooler full of bottled water for the family who would join us in a few hours.
According to the United States Library of Congress website,
"In 1864, Southern women decorated the graves of soldiers even before the Civil War’s end."
This holiday is now called "Memorial Day."
Longfellow wrote a famous poem about the day. Here are the words...
Decoration Day
Sleep, comrades, sleep and rest
On this Field of the Grounded Arms,
Where foes no more molest,
Nor sentry’s shot alarms!
Ye have slept on the ground before,
And started to your feet
At the cannon’s sudden roar,
Or the drum’s redoubling beat.
But in this camp of Death
No sound your slumber breaks;
Here is no fevered breath,
No wound that bleeds and aches.
All is repose and peace,
Untrampled lies the sod;
The shouts of battle cease,
It is the Truce of God!
Rest, comrades, rest and sleep!
The thoughts of men shall be
As sentinels to keep
Your rest from danger-free.
Your silent tents of green
We deck with fragrant flowers
Yours has the suffering been,
The memory shall be ours.
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