Memorial Day – In Memory – Remember!

Remember lest we forget… Remember! Lest we take one sacrifice for granted. 🇺🇸

Taps is played on the bugle in the winter snow at Arlington National Cemetery

It’s time to go to bed little man
Cover up your head little man
I’ll see you when the sun breaks in the morn.

Say your prayers and close your eyes,
I’ve locked the monsters all outside,
She’d sang those words to him since he was born.

He grew to be a brave young lad
And followed after his ole dad
Beneath a flag of pride his oath was sworn.

They brought him home in silk lined wood,
And all around him soldiers stood,
While Butterfield’s Lullaby played on the horn.

It’s time to go ahead little man,
I know that you weren’t scared little man,
My heart breaks I can’t see you and I mourn.

I’ve said my prayers for your closed eyes,
I’ve tucked my feelings deep inside…
She sang into a folded flag of thorns.

Poem by Janna Hill.

🙏 peace and comfort for all whose loved one(s) paid the ultimate price. For the some that gave all.

The Last Man Standing

We went for the annual camp-out this past weekend. I expected a small crowd and a somber mood considering it was our first gathering on the lake since my dear aunt left this world last June and this was her thing, she loved it.

Only thirty five or forty of us were in attendance so the crowd was small but the mood was far from somber. I should have known better than to think that.

We do not dwell on sorrow. No, we mustn’t… we cannot.  And we did not. Instead we laughed and reminisced about our rambunctious youth spent on the shores of Navarro Mills.  A time when our numbers were more, a time when strength and stamina ran hard through our veins, a time when we were too confident to recognize the gift.

Remembering makes us aware of our weakness but we remember anyway because it also brings us comfort. These are my memories:

I remember tents dotting the landscape, fried eggs on an open campfire, horse shoes clanking, blankets of bluebonnets, chasing birds along the banks and walking for miles in the sweltering heat. Swimming in the murky water, boat rides, the smell of roasted marshmallows and fishing along the shoreline. I remember crystal clear nights and counting stars until we fell asleep, long walks to the toilet, frigid dawns stealing slumber, and anxiously awaiting the next sunrise so we could do it all again.

With nostalgia I watch our children and grandchildren between sneaking stares at the last man standing (my father’s baby brother) and hope they understand what this gathering silently implies, these things you must remember.