Memorial Day

I am not real sure about Memorial Day. Growing up in the military we never went to the cemetery on Memorial Day. We never had "people" near us. We have always talked about those that had died. We always said a prayer for those who have died to keep us free or those that were currently serving. The cemetery part was never something we did. My belief is that when we die we are not "here." Sure, our bodies are still on Earth but our souls are somewhere else. Heaven or Hell. I have told my daughter that Oh'Grandma is in heaven but she knows that her body is in the cemetery. Several years ago, before Dusty's grandmother died she voiced a concern that once she was gone no one would remember her. I never understood until now what she meant. We remember her often especially Charlie who just adored her. We talk about if Grandma were her she would love this. On Wednesday of this last week Charlie said, "Mom, I need to go the cemetery to take flowers to Oh, Grandma and pray with her." I knew that every year Dusty's grandparents went to the cemetery. So, I called his mom and asked if we could go because is was something Charlie wanted to do. This is something I just don't get. I have a better understanding now but I just don't get it.

While there Charlie saw a statue of the Sacred Heart of Jesus at one of the head stones. She stood like this for 3 minutes before she joined us back at the car. When I asked what she was saying she said it was a secret prayer between her and Jesus.



I don't know how much this meant to Grandpa until later. Memorial day was like a date for him and Grandma. Early Saturday morning, they would visit all the headstones of their relatives leaving flowers then they would met up with friends for dinner. Monday they would attend the ceremonies and then lunch with friends. This was big for him. While placing flowers on Grandma's grave he cried. "You just don't know how much this would have meant to her that you came." Sometimes I think that we do things just for those we love even when we don't understand.

Charlie had to stop and pray at every headstone we visited (7). She saw a headstone with only a flag and some kind of military shield. She asked about it. I explained that he was a veteran (and told her what war if the head stone stated it). We have talked before about a Veteran being someone who has served our country to keep us safe during war. She also would pray for those that had flags and "war" markings. She called them policemen. These prayers she said out loud. "Thank you God for keeping me safe." I have always had her thank any service men and women when we see them in their uniform. I thank them too when I am by myself. I guess she has picked up more than I thought. My heart is overflowing with pride and admiration. I pray that her faith stays as strong.