Memorial Day 2017

If I had to guess, this will be one of my least read posts. Memorial Day was four whole days ago. In the world of immediate and instant "news," this will probably seem untimely and ancient. And that's ok. However, I really felt I needed to get this written out. If only for myself and Marcus and Julia. But, if you're one of the anticipated few to read this, I sincerely thank you from the bottom of my heart.

When we woke up on Memorial Day we had nary a care in the world and zero plans mapped out for our day. I was sure we'd spend a few hours in the pool, toss some food on the grill, and run around with the neighbor kids. We'd call it a good day and we'd say it was a solid way to wrap up the long "holiday" weekend.

I started scrolling my social media feeds; I saw the all these beautiful scenes - much like activities we were planning to do ourselves - with a very rare Memorial Day tribute sprinkled in amongst the parties and beaches and beer.

And then I saw this:

Courtesy Tyler Christiansen

There are men I knew personally who went away to fight for our freedoms (two of whom happen to be in that list above), yet never returned home. They were fathers, husbands, sons, brothers, uncles, friends...

Memorial Day, the actual meaning and reason behind the day, seem to be all but lost among so many.
And, that lit a bit of a fire in me.

I couldn't just sit around with my kids and waste a day dedicated to men and women who have given the ultimate sacrifice so we can splash in the pool, grill up a burger, drink a beer, and run amuck with our favorite neighbors.

I put Marcus and Julia in their red, white and blue, tossed them into the car, and we traveled to the Los Angeles National Cemetery.

Throughout our trip and visit I tried my best to explain to Marcus what we were doing, why we were doing it.

It was a tricky conversation to navigate, as death and dying are difficult and overwhelming to process as an adult, never mind a five-year old.

But, I did my very best to explain to Marcus that our freedoms don't come without cost. 

After walking around for a good bit, checking out different gravestones I pulled out some pennies I had brought just for this experience. I told Marcus to pick a few different stones to place the pennies on. 

A few summers back, while visiting Arlington National Cemetery, I learned there was significance to leaving certain items on the gravestones.

"Pennies are left on graves, most of all, in remembrance of the deceased. Leaving a penny from your pocket is a way to leave part of yourself at the burial site. The coin is a visual reminder that, even in death, the memory of the deceased lives on. It is also a sign of respect to the dead, as it shows that their memory has value to you and is something you want to commemorate.

This is a tradition held onto by members of the United States Military. The money left at graves in national cemeteries and state veteran cemeteries is left in place for a time, but it is eventually collected, and the funds are put toward the cemetery or paying burial costs for indigent veterans."

Again, another tricky thing to try and explain to Marcus, but he enjoyed finding gravestones to leave our pennies on.

We spent almost an hour and a half at the cemetery, well beyond what I had expected. And both kids were on their absolute best behavior (never mind Julia wouldn't wear shoes). 

I know much of what we discussed during our time at the National Cemetery will likely be lost on Marcus, at least for now. But, if Scott and I do our jobs right, and keep teaching both kids how imperative it is to pay our respects, not only on Memorial Day, but everyday, then perhaps by the time Marcus and Julia are adults the meaning of the long weekend won't be lost on them.