Here in the United States, we are heading into the Memorial Day weekend. And I must admit, I am feeling a little lost. My Own True Love and I make a point of attending a Memorial Day service each year. These days our “home town” service takes space in Grant Park at the foot of the status to General John Logan. But we have attended services in small towns and distant suburbs, usually put on by the local VFW post with the help of a few stalwart Boys Scouts. We’ve visited museums dedicated to the memory of American armed forces.* And in 2018, we attended the Memorial Day service at the American Cemetery near Omaha Beach.  Each of those experiences has been powerful and moving in its own way.

This year, obviously, we will not be attending a Memorial Day service. It leaves a hole that I haven’t figured out how to fill. The best I can offer are my memories (ha!) of earlier years.

The First Memorial Day

Lest We Forget

Also this, because no Memorial Day service is complete without the sound of a bugler paying taps.

I am now officially choked up. Maybe that was all I needed.

Remember the fallen. Thank the living. Pray for peace.

*If you’re in the Chicago area, I highly recommend the First Division Museum at Cantigny Park when the world opens back up.