Memorial Day
Memorial Day means different things to different people. It seems that for many/most US citizens Memorial Day is mostly about the start of summer, cookouts, the opening of swimming pools, the end of the school year and generally good times. It isn't quite that for me. For me it is a time to recall my ancestors who put their life on the line for this country. People like Pelitiah Thayer, George Richmeyer (and his dad of the same name), Barney Alonzo Parslow and his dad Henry Parslow, my father Donald Parslow and his cousin Gano H. Jewell (who was killed in action at Vire, France August 7, 1944). But also, I remember
friends now departed like Charles Franklin Pryor who served in the Dominican Republic, Vietnam and in the National Guard. I also remember my many friends now serving in Kosovo and preparing for service in Iraq.
All these folks gave themselves over to a greater cause in the hopes that they would create or preserve a greater nation for the benefit of their families and friends. Over time, many millions of men and women have made sacrifices great and small in service to their country, this country, the United States of America. In their service they honored those who before them made that offer and were killed in service. So, on this day, Memorial Day, we make our humble offering of thanks and rememberance for those who died in service.
In Flanders Fields
John McCrae, 1915.
In Flanders fields 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.
Labels: Culture
