May 27 2002
Memorial Day
In this holiday-starved nation, where two weeks a year out of 52 is the usual ration of vacation and for many, including me, this is the first long weekend since New Year’s Day, it’s easy to forget the reason we are having it at all. It gets lost in plans for barbecues, sales at the mall, getting away for a much-needed break, the unofficial first weekend of the summer.
But it’s good to take a little time and remember that this day, Memorial Day, is to remember the sacrifices of the men, women, children, and animals who fought for our freedom from the Civil War onward, both at home and abroad.
I am very proud that both of my grandfathers fought in WWI, and am very fortunate that they both survived. My mother’s father, a farm boy from Upstate New York, was the only survivor of his unit. He saw his boyhood friends killed in front of his eyes, yet when the war was over and he had done his duty, had a week in Paris and then was shipped home, back to the farm, as if nothing had happened. No therapy in those days!
My father’s father was a tough little Londoner, 18 when he joined up. He was from a rough part of town, Southwark, which remains so to this day. A few years ago, my father and I went in search of my grandfather’s birthplace, but the area had been heavily bombed during WWII and the only building remaining from the time of my grandfather’s birth were the stables belonging to the railway, long abandoned, along with the graffiti-scarred council housing (projects in American) across the street. It turned out later that the very day we went on this hunt would have been my grandfather’s 100th birthday.
My father’s father became an international banker at Lloyd’s in the City, and did well for himself. Yet he was plagued with depression and nightmares for the rest of his life, which were credited to, or blamed on, his being gassed in WWI. My mother’s father became a highschool principal and he, too, suffered nightmares for the rest of his life, which I learned first-hand since I always slept in a cot in my grandparents’ room when we visited there.
But neither of them thought much of what they did. It was simply what had to be done, the right thing. I’m glad they did, and on this day, I give thanks to all who did the right thing, and never even considered doing otherwise.
4 Responses to “Memorial Day”
memorial day is an awesome holiday. well, the reasoning for it is awesome. my grandfather was in wwII and survived. guess how he died? a gunshot wound to his head in a corner store robbery. disgusting.
Our Grandparents were so brave. My maternal grandfather fought in WWII and I’ve been told he suffered from nightmares as well. He partied it up big time when he came home. He was known for being a rowdie yet like both your Grandpas he went on with his life.
They say the nightmares are actually beneficial. Its a way for your body and mind to come to terms with your demons. If they didn’t suffer from nightmares its thought that the wouldn’t have been able to function during the day. I don’t know how true that is, but it always seemed to me to be so unfair that it was these men that gave me my freedom and they suffered for it, in one way or another, their entire lives. Its worth remembering.
I wonder whats going to happen for the next generation when they don’t have the opportunity to put a face to the people who fought for their freedom like we can?
Aimee — how HORRIBLE. I’m really, really sorry about what happened to your grandfather. It’s beyond wrong, even if they caught who did it.
Amber — very good points! I had never heard that before about nightmares, but it makes sense. I hope that when WWII does fade out of living memory, it still has the power the Civil War or the Revolutionary War do.
well, ya, they caught them, but don’t worry – that happened before i was born. it happened when my mom was a teenager, so it was more of a big deal for her than myself. but it’s hard when my grandmother breaks down crying, saying that he would’ve loved me. it is hard. and i think the person who killed him is out of jail now. american law sucks arse. they’re too lenient.