During my mother-in-law’s lifetime, she carried flowers
to the cemetery at this time of the year.
Back in that era, she called it “Decoration Day.” With no car and no
knowledge to drive one if one had been available, she arranged for someone to
take her to the cemetery—a twenty mile round trip. A short distance by today’s
standards, but back then, it wasn’t.
Of course she took blossoms on other occasions, but
she expressly wanted to remember on this patriotic occasion the fallen men and
women who made the supreme sacrifice for her country.
Most historians believe the practice of remembering the soldiers with
flowers sprang up around 1865 when
liberated slaves decorated graves at a former Confederate prison camp. This
site contained a mass grave for Union soldiers who died in captivity.
Before today's date became known as
Memorial Day, the 30th of May, 1868 was set aside as Decoration Day. The
purpose was to decorate the graves of those who died in defense of our
country. These men and women lie buried
in every city, village and churchyard in the land.
The alternative name of "Memorial Day" was first used in 1882. The new name became more common after World War II, and Federal law declared it the official name on June 28, 1968.
Many will
gather today in backyards for barbeque, beer, margarita's, play games, and swim in
pools—for many, it will be a fun and a relaxing time away from work. Grills will
smoke with meat and the aroma of hamburgers and brisket will tantalize the
taste buds.
Smoke on the
battlefields was part of a soldier’s life during every war. The smoke did not arise from a backyard grill and fun times. Men and women fought on foreign shores for our
freedom. It was not pretty nor did it have a fragrant aroma. No fun in this
scenario.
Let us pause at
this solemn interval to give thanks for those who shaped our freedom in the
supreme way.
Fly the
flag. Decorate the graves. Pause to give thanks.
REMEMBER
I'm a patriot. In many of my books, you'll find men who've served our country. Here's one. Marcy's husband was killed in Afghanistan. Marcy, and her little girl, Hope, are alone in a strange, Texas town. She needs help. Sarah, the haphazard angel, is sent on her first mission. Can she help Marcy?