Thank you, John. This is a beautiful tribute to your family member. The person I always think of on Memorial day [other than saying a prayerful thank you and remembrance to all those who have died] is a friend from High School who died in Vietnam. King was the life of a party, but he was killed by a sniper during my sophomore year at A&I. It is important to keep those who sacrificed so much for us alive and honored in our memory!
I was always taught that we die twice. The first time is when we take our last breath. The second is the day our name is spoken for the last time.
That line about finding a name, honoring the name, and sharing the name hit me.
Every time I’ve participated in Wreaths Across America, after placing wreaths, I’ve also gone to the Ft. Sam Houston Cemetery where my grandfather, grandmother, and father are buried. Like your mom, I take off my hat, say a silent prayer, and thank them for their service.
And for me, that gratitude extends to the families too. The spouses, the children, the dependents, the ones who carried the weight alongside them.
Because remembering matters. Speaking their names matters.
Lovely! It makes me crazy when people blithely say Happy Memorial Day!
I agree.
Thank you, John. This is a beautiful tribute to your family member. The person I always think of on Memorial day [other than saying a prayerful thank you and remembrance to all those who have died] is a friend from High School who died in Vietnam. King was the life of a party, but he was killed by a sniper during my sophomore year at A&I. It is important to keep those who sacrificed so much for us alive and honored in our memory!
Thank you for sharing this, and 75 Letters.
I was always taught that we die twice. The first time is when we take our last breath. The second is the day our name is spoken for the last time.
That line about finding a name, honoring the name, and sharing the name hit me.
Every time I’ve participated in Wreaths Across America, after placing wreaths, I’ve also gone to the Ft. Sam Houston Cemetery where my grandfather, grandmother, and father are buried. Like your mom, I take off my hat, say a silent prayer, and thank them for their service.
And for me, that gratitude extends to the families too. The spouses, the children, the dependents, the ones who carried the weight alongside them.
Because remembering matters. Speaking their names matters.