Memorial Day 2011

Every Memorial Day that I have been home since 1982, I have participated in the service Hendrum holds at the five local cemeteries to remember those who died during or after protecting our country in the armed services.

All but one of the churches that once held these people have long ago been destroyed or moved but the markers of the members remain.

The words of the poems I have read each year flow quickly off my tongue from memory: 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 but now we lie in Flanders Fields...

The flowering crab trees line the path that people walk to the graves of their loved ones. They remind me of new life decorating the resting place of the dead.

The list of names is read - the order always the same - each year a little bit longer.

The 21 gun salute has been reduced to 12 as members of the Legion have joined the ranks of those whose names are read.

I visit the graves of grandparents, aunts, uncles.

Even some cousins lie here.

I see the decomposing graves of other people's babies

while my babies look at the stones of those who have gone on before.

This is as close as they will ever get to the physical remains of their grandpa - though they don't see the importance of that right now.

It is the time to say goodbye to friends recently and long ago buried, listen to the soulful sound of taps and remember.

Day is done, Gone the sun, From the lakes, From the hills, From the sky.

All is well, safely rest - God is nigh.