However, it isn't long before my mind wanders to other loved ones who are gone. And not necessarily because of war, really, but because of other incidents. I think about my nephews, my aunts and uncles, my cousins, my grandparents, and on and on. I tend to get a little sad and nostalgic, and then I have to stop thinking.
Is that why I barbecue, go to parades, or plant trees and flowers? To stop remembering? To stop thinking about the sense of loss? I wonder.
We went to a parade this morning. They aren't really my thing, but my husband really wanted to go, and so we did. It was swelteringly hot and humid. It was crowded and loud. But that's not what got to me. What made me choke up was seeing the little old men in uniform. It was hot, humid, sticky, and there they were marching proudly in the parade on a holiday meant just for them. Yes, I will remember them, thank them, and be forever grateful for their service to our country. My heartfelt pride for them.
Later, we ducked into a little corner grill and had lunch. We sat outside with lots of other townspeople, watching the parade disperse. And then after lunch, we walked through a few of the cute little shops and finally made our way home. The rest of the day wasn't about them; it was about us. We went out for ice cream, did a little garden shopping, planted a tree, and went for a ride in our convertible.
It was a great weekend all in all, but I can't seem to get those little old men out of my mind. Will they be here next year? To march in my town's parade? I hope so. I'd like to have more than just a memory of them. I want to remember them. And to tell them thank you. And happy Memorial Day.
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