Land That My Father Loved
As a child growing up in rural NH, I loved Memorial Day. Now I look upon it as a day off, which in turn means an even busier work week as we do 5 days worth of work in a 4 day period of time. Somewhere in time I lost the meaning of the holiday. I only have to look to my childhood and my father to bring it back. I haven’t gone to a Memorial Day parade in years, but I loved going as a child. I don’t remember where the parade started or the path it took to get to the memorial park in town, but I remember watching everyone marching along. The 4H kids, the local high school band, the scouts, and of course the veterans, but what I was most curious about were the women riding in the fancy car. My Aunt was one of them. She was a Blue Star mother and even though I didn't know what that meant, I knew it was special and had something to do with a cousin who had died in the Vietnam War. She wore a white dress, white panty hose and shoes and a navy blue cape and a jaunty hat. It was the re...