Memorial Day

Last night, on the eve of Memorial Day, I watched my Dad getting ready for the Memorial Day Parade. He collects and restores military vehicles from the Korean Conflict, the time when he was a young buck in the Marine Corps. As he walked around each of his trucks, now lined up in his driveway and ready to roll, I noticed the 70 plus years on my Daddy. Instead of the man that would have done a quick squat to check the tire pressure, this man let himself down painfully onto one knee. From my vantage point on my porch across the street, I could see him pull his weight off that knee, using the truck for support. It took him many minutes to circle all the trucks and I had a while to reflect on this man that raised me.

At the age of 16, he lost first his mother, then his father. His sister took him in and he finished high school and entered the Marine Corps. He'd dated my mother since they were both very young and he came home and married her when he was only 20 years old. I was born that year and my brother followed the next. He had a trade as a cabinet maker from high school vocational training, but when it came down to keeping food on the table for all of us, it was the trade of his father that fed us. Dad worked as a mechanic for several years until he was offered a position managing a corporate fleet. Those years were the worst because Daddy worked long, crazy hours and the stress of the job tore at his very fabric. But I was a kid. I didn't see all that. What I saw was my Daddy coming home from work and having his "alone time" with Mom. We kids knew that the hour before supper was for them to talk while Mom finished getting supper on. Then Daddy was there for every meal, not just supper, but breakfast and lunch, too! Daddy went to choir rehearsal with Mom every Thursday night and Daddy was there to take us to church every Sunday. Dad was the one that turned over the dirt for the garden in the spring, kept the lawn mowed, painted things, and fixed things. He weeded the garden, brought in the vegetables and even helped Mom can and freeze them. We kids helped out in our "kid" way, but now I think a lot of our help was only for us to learn what it meant to work together for the family good. I was ten when my sister was born and it was my required participation in her care that taught me just what kind of miracles little babies are! I think, as most kids do, I took it all for granted that all kids lived like this. We did our chores but we had the freedom to play and run and grow.

That was a long time ago now, and this morning, Dad's wearing the uniform of the Marine Corps League. He will march with those that bore arms with him as well as beside those that bore arms before him. The League also has members from Viet Nam and they will be there, too. The uniform he wears today isn't the same as the dress blues that he used to keep in the closet, but there's still pride in the Corps and country. And I know there's a lot of respect and sadness for those that didn't come home. I can see him making one last round of the trucks that he will drive today, walking stiffly and painfully (his knees always bother him in the morning). Other men from the League have arrived to drive with him. They will go to the cemeteries and to the graves of the men that fell so long ago and they will remember what they did so that kids like me could have the lives that we did. Today, they will honor those that still serve and protect our country. Not just the military, deployed on foreign shores, but those that are here, protecting our borders and the fire fighters that protect our homes and the police that protect our neighborhoods. May God bless them all! Not just for the work they are doing now, but the work that was done before, and the examples that they become for all of us. Simple men of principle that gave what was required.

Daddy's climbing into the lead vehicle now. It's a really big truck (he calls it a 'deuce', but I really don't know what that means) and the cab's a long way above the ground. After a couple minutes, the engine roars to life and I can see my Daddy smiling behind the wheel. It's going to be a good day.