This is the busy weekend. It signals the start of summer. Warm weather. Cottages. Boats. Swimming. Golf.
I think this is the first time in a year and one half that I have missed doing my blog on time. Usually it is the Tuesday/Friday routine. I deserve 20 lashes with a wet noodle.
I know that Debs and Tom are visiting the Train Museum in Green Bay. Kelly is painting and landscaping her house. Chris is planting a row of hedges along his driveway (using a company back hoe) with slave labor (Collin). Paul and I played a little golf. And Margaret, well who knows. She lives in this camelot city to the north and she seems to like her privacy (created by distance). As I ramble, it sounds like a typical 3 day, memorial day weekend.
My fondest memories go back to the late 1940's and early 1950's. It was a time that World War II had just ended. A lot of families had lost love ones in the War or knew close friends that had been killed. There were also men who returned and had disabilities that were constant reminders of the ravage of War. But, the War was over! There was a relief. People were thankful for the precious things in life.
When Memorial Day came, there was a reverence for all men and women who served. The Plymouth parade was attended by lots of people in tribute to marching Veterans and floats and bands. As veterans marched in the parade, many people stood at attention to salute or held their hands on their hearts. There were a few tears that were shed.
The parade went down the main street and ended at the cemetary along the river. Usually the weather was warm, flowers (especially Lilacs) were very fragrant. Unforgetable.
My guess in reflecting is that there was a relief that our country was not "at risk". The fear that a loved one would be lost in some far off country or island was gone. After years of constant fear, things were positive. Somehow when you've experienced the worst, it makes the good things seem even better.
God Bless America. There is no better place in the world.
Love,
Dad