Memorial Day

When you think of holiday weekends, it usually means an extra day off from work and time to spend with family and friends at barbecues or similar social events. I remember, when I was younger, that Memorial Day meant more than just socializing. My father, a veteran himself, always marched in a parade and wore a little red poppy in his lapel. Since changing the official date of Memorial Day from May 30th to the last Monday in May (to enable Americans to have a three day weekend), many feel that it contributed to the general public's nonchalant observance of Memorial Day.

One of the good things about writing a blog is that it gets you to look up things you might not ordinarily take the time to do. While I knew that Memorial Day was originally called Decoration Day, I didn't know that it dated as far back as the Civil War. While today it is known as a day to honor those who have died in our nation's service, it was originally set aside to honor those Union and Confederate soldiers who gave their lives fighting in the Civil War. That first year, they placed flags on the graves of all those buried in Arlington National Cemetary. To this day, there are still groups who place these flags on the graves although the number of graves has grown considerably since that first "placing of the flags" back in 1868. Here's a picture of a Veteran's Cemetery replete with flags for Memorial Day.

I would like to think that if you asked a number of young Americans what the meaning of Memorial Day was, they would know the answer but, sadly enough, I don't think this is true. When I think of Memorial Day, the first thing that comes to mind is the fallen heroes of war followed closely by the red poppy. I don't know why I remember this but perhaps we were taught this poem in school in honor of Memorial Day. When I was doing my research, before I started typing this, there was the poem I remembered and saw once again and I'll type it here for you:

In Flanders Field, the poppies blow

Between the crosses, row on row

That mark our place; and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved and were loved, and now we lie

in Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders fields

Flanders Field was the site of many grueling WWI battles and this poem was written by Canadian physician and Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae after witnessing the death of one of his friends. The poppies referred to in the poem grew in profusion in Flanders where war casualties had been buried and thus became a symbol of this great day of remembrance. Here is a picture of The Flanders Field American Cemetery and Memorial in Belgium. At this peaceful site rest 368 of our military dead, most of whom gave their lives in liberating the soil of Belgium in World War I. Their headstones are aligned in four symmetrical areas around the white stone chapel that stands in the center of the cemetery. When I see something like this, it brings to mind all those countries who were so thankful for our help in saving them from their foes.

I would hope that in generations to come, the true meaning of Memorial Day will be passed on. So if any of my young friends are reading this blog, take it upon yourself to carry the torch and spread the word and never forget those who died while liberating others and preserving our freedom. I write this post in honor of my favorite veteran...Michael J. Cunningham. Thankfully he didn't die in the war but served our country and our family just the same. I should be using this picture in a Veteran's Day post as opposed to a Memorial Day post but, since I have my new scanner, I will take every opportunity possible to post old photos. I hope you enjoy this one Aunt Margie.