Another Memorial Day

It’s a little different this year. I’m trying hard to not let all the darkness rush in. It’s a little easier because we took our two young grandson’s camping!  The constant needs of a 5 and 7 year old fill the space, the air and the brain.  They’re really great boys.  Funny and smart. Their dad spent time in the Army.  He, like every solid veteran, downplays his service. He’s done that in front of me and today when Oma (I’m Opa) asked the boys if they knew what Memorial Day was? They did not.  She explained that some people who are in the military die while doing their jobs, and this is the weekend (and day) that we honor them.  

She said, your Opa was in the Navy, he was lucky and got to come home.  I said, and your dad was in the Army and he got to come home too.  So we remember those who didn’t. 

They said, ya, but dad wasn’t in a war.  He wasn’t in a fight.  No, but he was in a uniform and he did lots of training and he went to other countries to keep them safe and free. 

Oh. I didn’t know that.  I’m glad he was lucky to. 

Me too boys. Me too.