Memorial Day

Today is Sunday, May 27th, 2012, Memorial Day weekend. Tomorrow is Memorial Day. This weekend means different things to different people. Most people are with family and friends this weekend, either vacationing, relaxing at the lake or beach, or having a barbeque at home. My main attraction today, it's race day. The Indianapolis 500 will be run today followed by the Charlotte 600 tonight. I turn on the big screen and seldom move from about noon until whenever. I can do the cook-out thing Monday.

Not this year. This Memorial Day weekend is different. I'm not going to get to do any of the things I usually do. I'm sitting in my truck at the Schneider Operations Center in Indianapolis, Indiana (about 25 miles from the racetrack). I was sitting here lonely and alone, feeling sorry for myself at having to be away from home on the holiday. I was pouting and thinking about what I could be doing this weekend when the words really sunk in, "Memorial Day." As I sat thinking I got even more down, depressed, and mad. Mad, not at being alone and away from home, but mad at myself for thinking only about me. I've got a loving family at home and they're only a phone call away. This weekend is not about me and not being able to be at home. It's about hundreds of thousands of men and women. It's about those who never got to spend another Memorial Day, or any other day, at home because they gave the ultimate sacrifice to protect those at home and give us the freedom and liberty to celebrate the way we want every day.

From the the Revolutionary War, and every decade since, America's men and women have been involved in some type of military operation putting themselves in harms way to protect us. This weekend is about those who never came home. I feel bad that I forgot about them while I wallowed in my own self-pity.

When I was growing up no one ever talked about the meaning of Memorial Day. I knew it was a holiday. I knew we had either just gotten out of school for summer vacation or we would be getting out the following week and that's really what mattered to me. I don't ever remember being taught about Memorial Day in school and was never taught what it meant by my family even though my father served in the US Army Air Corps and I have two brothers who both served in the Navy. I grew up in a military town. I just don't remember anyone saying, "This is what Memorial Day is about."

When did I learn what it meant? May 29th,1972, Memorial Day, forty years ago. It's become more meaningful each and every year. On March 9th, 1972 I enlisted in the United States Navy. On May 19th, 1972 I graduated from Basic Training and returned home for leave, not having to report for Hospital Corps School until June 5th. That would give me the Memorial Day weekend at home before leaving and all my friends would be out of school for the weekend. We had a good time on Saturday and Sunday and on Monday I went to Greenwood, SC to visit my grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins who lived there.  I was real close to them and we always had a blast together. I have an aunt who is only a couple of years older than me and we always had a special relationship. We could talk about anything and everything. She hadn't wanted me to join the service but I could tell that she was still proud of me for doing what I thought was right. She had gotten married after school and her husband had been drafted and sent to Vietnam.  He was one of the lucky ones and came home. She learned about the military, war, and men dying, the hard way, through letters back and forth from Vietnam, and watching the horrors of war play out in front of us for the first time on television. We all had a lot of fun that day and then ate a dinner that my grandmother had prepared.  It was just a great day all around and my idea of a perfect holiday weekend.

After dinner went walking and just talked. Somewhere in the middle of our walk I remembered seeing the flags at half-mast while I was driving up there and asked her, "Who died?" She asked what I was talking about and I explained seeing the flags and knew they only flew at half mast for a president or dignitary that had died. "You really don't know?" she asked. I just looked dumbfounded at her. She told me, "thousands of people" and it's probably one of the few times I've ever seen her serious about anything as she is always full of life and living. I thought she would cry as she told me she couldn't believe I had joined the Navy and still didn't know why we had Memorial day. She told me from a military wife's perspective what it had meant to her.  Then it was my turn to try to hold back the tears. I couldn't recall the entire conversation if I tried. That was 40 years ago tomorrow, but suffice it to say I came away with a new outlook on Memorial Day weekend.  Each year, as I get older, my respect and admiration for those who served gets stronger. In my heart every day is Memorial Day, and not only for those who didn't return, but those who served and gave of their time and energy and all those still serving.

I can only hope that each person living in this country will take just a few minutes out of their busy weekend to really think about what this day means. Remember those who gave their lives selflessly to protect those freedoms that you are enjoying this weekend and every weekend. Let's not forget those who are away from home this weekend still protecting you. Whether it's a sailor or marine on a landing boat sitting off the coast of Iran, a soldier sitting in an office in Germany, or an airman working on a FA-18 jet engine at Shaw Air Force Base, each is protecting you and your family this weekend.

Please don't forget those left behind. Say a prayer for the mothers, fathers, wives, husbands, children, and other family members and friends who can only grieve on this day without their loved ones. This weekend is also very much about them.

How did I become so self centered and shallow that I forget what this day really means? Hopefully never again.

I can't very well complain about sitting in a truck in Indiana now can I?