When I was a girl we called it "Decoration Day" because that's when we decorated the graves of our loved ones. I helped my mom pick bouquets from our flower garden; irises, peonies, whatever happened to be blooming. We arranged them in tin cans and transported them to the cemetery just down the road from our farm house. The graveyard took up the space beside and behind our old stone German church. As my mom and I walked among the graves she pointed out my grandpas, grandmas, aunts, uncles, and cousins who are all buried there. I remember asking my mom about the flags that stood beside some of the tombstones. She told me they honored the soldiers who had served our country. I sensed they were special, but I was too young to fully appreciate their sacrifice for me. |
Strangers often showed their appreciation for my Jack. When he wore his soldier cap with medals attached, they would stop him and say, "Thank you for serving," as they gave him a strong handshake. Their gesture touched his heart and mine too. Jack even got to go on an Honor Flight trip to Washington D.C. He received the honor he was due, the honor all our faithful service people deserve. We will never know what they gave up for us. |