Another holiday without my children… another day of silence
where there should be prayer, family coming together to remember our fallen
soldiers, and those who have served. Another day of emptiness, when there
should be the richness of tradition, and patriotism, taught to the next
generation. Another tear to shed as the flags wave, as the other families
gather to picnic, my family will be torn apart, as will my heart.
Remembering…
On the morning of Memorial Day, my children are woke by the
blaring of horns and the screech of a fire engine whistle. They run to the
window, their sleepy faces being rubbed awake by gentle sunshine. Below the
window they can see Main Street, where the Memorial Day parade begins, the
bright red fire trucks leading the way, followed by rows of veterans waving
flags.
The community gathers along the sidewalks, cheering and
waving small flags. Tootsie rolls are thrown into the waiting hands of
children. The veterans proudly wear their uniforms, and are greeted with
handshakes or hugs.
Every lamp post and utility pole along Main Street is decorated with flags., the parade begins beneath a banner of stars. The instruments of the marching band are polished to a golden shine, they proudly play patriotic songs steeped in history and memory, stirring our heart with the clash of cymbals, the pounding of drums, the burst of the horns.
Every lamp post and utility pole along Main Street is decorated with flags., the parade begins beneath a banner of stars. The instruments of the marching band are polished to a golden shine, they proudly play patriotic songs steeped in history and memory, stirring our heart with the clash of cymbals, the pounding of drums, the burst of the horns.
Collector cars pass in jeweled colors—jade, golden topaz,
ruby and sapphire adorned with graceful fins, chrome wheels, and elaborate hood
ornaments.
The Boy Scouts in their blue uniforms march, the Girl Scouts
ride in a wooden wagon pulled by a tractor.
Dogs of all sizes stroll down the street, their tails
wagging with excitement.
The parade fills our home with cheer, and when it ends I
will turn up the music, my daughter tunes the radio to a dance song. The
children play as I fry eggs and bacon, every once in awhile I will pop my head
into the living room to remind them of what Memorial Day is about. We will pray
for the soldiers before breakfast begins, and pray for this country. I will
turn off the radio to put in Gospel, so my children can have a moment of
reverence.
I hope now my children will remember what I have taught
them, and that they always know how much I love them.
-- Daylen Swift
