You See . . . It Was Memorial Day.

When I was very young, my family would pack into an automobile and travel to River Falls WI or to Medford MN. It was a long trip for us, 5 siblings, 2 parents, and picnic baskets and blankets and dishes also shovels and rakes. I only remember a few years when Dad was the driver. Often the trips were taken with Uncle Jim and Aunt Augusta or Uncle Doug and Aunt Millie. Sometimes, Auntie Evalyn rode with us to River Falls. It was a full car. There were no seat belts, and people "stacked" to get everyone in. If the weather was cold we were all very warm. If the weather was hot, we rolled down all the windows and were buffeted by the wind and still very hot.

There was no bickering. It wasn't allowed. There was some poking, pinching, tickling and squirming, but not much because that might lead to bickering and that was not allowed. I know I often slept most of the way in the safest place there could be -- on my mother's lap.

Once we were at the destination, we were terribly grateful to pile out of the car. Those at the bottom of the stacks took longer to stand up and walk because their legs were asleep. There was much giggling as wobbly limbs tried to unfold and come back to life. The men, Dad, Uncle, and my brother would unload the car where the ladies, Mom, Aunt and eldest sister, Dorothy directed.

The women put on hats for shade and began pulling weeds, raking away winter dried grass and leaves. They moved from spot to spot. There was some tsking over the condition of the place and a few tears shed here and there. The younger kids were allowed to move pretty freely in play being warned to "watch where you put your feet". The older kids were busy spreading blankets, laying out the dishes and taking the jars we brought along to the pump to get water.

The men chatted quietly in the shade until the women were done. Then the men walked carefully along looking for "repair work" needed. The shovels were put to use digging up some sod here and there, maybe straightening a stone. Sometimes it was actually necessary to level the ground and replace a stone that had turned over. In that case a couple of the more muscled women would pitch in and help. The baskets of food had been in the trunk of the car, but the precious baskets of flowers were on someone's lap for the whole trip. Now they were brought from where they had been staying fresh in the shade. Plants were carefully divided, spread evenly around and water was brought in pails from the pump.

We all came together and washed up. I was always careful to wash really good at the pump to avoid Mom, any of my sisters or one of my aunts giving me a spit bath. If you've never had one you don't know what you missed and that's a good thing. One of those ladies with eyesight of an eagle would spot something I missed and grab a handkerchief from a pocket, spit on it and commence scrubbing. I would have struggled, but the first move on their part was to grab me by my chin and hang on for dear life. There was no escape.

The picnic was festive. We enjoyed the view, ate chicken or sandwiches, had salads and even some early berries, and dessert. There was always much to choose from in the dessert baskets. Cake, pie, cookies, homemade doughnuts. Oh, I wish I hadn't remembered the doughnuts. I want one now!

After lunch, the conversations began. It was good to just let them forget you were present by being quiet and still so they would keep talking. Remember when Amelia thought no one was looking and would hike her skirts to straighten a stocking because Ernest was where he could see? Chuckles all round. Where is her son now? I heard he was in Korea. Pause. Egie (pronounced Eeejee) . . . at the name, alone, everyone would laugh. Right over there is where Egie thought he saw the headless horseman and it was Gus cutting through here on his way home. Remember when he took his date to the drug store and bought himself a malt? He told her it was pretty good and she should buy herself one too. Lots of laughter. How about the Buskovik boys? Did they both die in the war? Yes. One left a widow and some kids, don't remember how many. Right over that hill is where I was riding my bike and the handlebars came off and I went ass over teakettle. There's a bluff not too far from here where Ted almost went over the edge one winter sledding. I couldn't save the sled but I caught him by the seat of his pants just before he went over. Smiles, twinkles, remember when we put him in the manure spreader and sent him from the hayloft out over the wires. It went too far and dropped him right in the manure pile. Laughter until Dad had to wipe tears from his eyes; tears of laughter followed by real tears because he missed Ted so.

Soon the reminiscing was over and the men would pick up their shovels and walk through the area policing any spaces that had not been tended. The ladies would weed those spots that were forgotten. Occasionally, they would stand close together, arms entwined and mourn someone's child. Usually one of the women would go back and dig up a plant or two from each spot they had just planted them and bring them here to carefully replant and re-water.

You see, it was Memorial Day. Families took care of the graves of loved ones and loved ones that belonged to someone else who had also passed this life or moved away. Much time and thought went into preparation for the day. The cemetery came to beautiful life as gravesites were cleaned, flowers were planted, shrubs were pruned back, and memories were relived. There were tears, there was laughter, there was food, and love.

There was usually enough food to gather at the blankets one more time for more to eat and more to remember. By this time, the men were having a game of "catch" and the older girls were playing tag or picking wildflowers along the edge of the cemetery. I would rest my head in Mom's lap and listen to the ladies remembering their mothers and grandmothers and school friends. Soon the fresh air and exercise and soft voices would lull me to sleep.

I didn't understand the special grace they gave to those who had died in WWI or the more recent WWII. Korea was an ominous name from far away. Communism was a new word in my vocabulary and was a thought I pushed far away out of mind-sight. It frightened me. To think that men and boys would actually have to die to keep it at bay was something my young mind couldn't comprehend.

When I woke, there were those times when we could afford the little U.S. flags and I was allowed to put one at each designated grave for the man who helped to keep our country safe. When the last flag was set, we would look over our little family plot and there would be silence. Someone would say, "It's been a nice day. Everything looks so nice." While the others were picking up the blankets and tools and dishes, I would wander the graves taking in all the names of the grandparents I had never met, great aunts and uncles that were only names. I would wonder about those who had earned a little flag. Back in the crowded car we would head for home. Someone would usually hand me a little paper poppy they had gotten for donating. I would snuggle close to Mom and play with my flower.

How many more "conflicts" (such a nice euphemism for war) have come and gone since then? How many more men have given their lives and their health and their sanity to protect a country that allows us to live as we do? Whether you believe in war or not, it is a reality, it has happened, is happening. Those men and now, women too, who believe they are doing what they must deserve our gratitude. Dave, my Dave, served in Viet Nam. He came back whole but not the same. He came back healthy, healthy until the things of war affected his current health. He is alive and we are together. We know someone who will never leave prison because he left his sanity in the tunnels of Viet Nam. His flashbacks cause him to be unsafe around others. We know of those, some close friends, who did not come back. We love someone dearly who was part of recovery for Black Hawk Down and during the Gulf War of Desert Storm. He has mind pictures none of us would want to see.

It is Memorial Day. Remember those who served, serve, or gave all. Remember family and that you are who you are because you are part of that family. Remember you live in a country where you may think stupidity reigns but in reality is still better than any other country you could try. Celebrate those who went before and honor the flag that flies proudly because of them.