I'm taking my kids up to the cemetary today. I feel very strongly that they need to understand what Memorial Day is all about, and I want them to remember the reason behind the holiday. We are going up there, and we are going to decorate the grave of the only veteran that we know who died, the man who lived across from us and got killed at Sturgis a few years ago. We are also going to find a grave that no one is taking care of and adopting it. I feel very strongly about this. I grew up where my grandparents and my mom grew up. Every year around Memorial Day we would go to the graveyard and clean the graves and put out flowers. It was a time of remembrance and of knowing where we came from. It was a time of stories and of working together as a family. It was a perfect time to hear about my great grandpa, to ask my grandma once again who that baby grave belongs to. We would stroll the graveyard and listen to grandpa tell stories about this person, or how he and that person pulled pranks on their teacher.
I can't give my kids exactly what I had as a child, but maybe I can help them remember those who have gone before us. Maybe I can help them get in touch with graveyards, and the past, and honoring the dead.
One thing that bothers me about doing this is that I know I will cry. Why has crying become so taboo in our society? Why is it something to be hidden, and done only in extreme situations in public? Why have we shut ourselves away from remembering and mourning our dead, and those who we love? I honor those who have gone before me with my tears. I hope I can make my children understand that.