Honoring our soldiers, family

I guess I’m from an era that marks May 30 as Memorial Day. Changing it to extend the weekend seems like a direct hit on its meaning. So, I’ll be keeping time with the date on the old calendar.

I am likely to visit the cemetery — which I seldom do. Even though my mother was from the Midwest, which considers graveside visits the eleventh commandment, she never had the urge to show up at my dad’s plot. It wasn’t that she couldn’t handle it. She firmly believed in the hope of everlasting life in Jesus Christ—and simply felt my father wasn’t there.

My dad was not in the military. He should have been in World War II by age requirement. Back then you were excused from service if you were studying to be a “man of the cloth.” Maybe the prevailing thought was ministers were needed to help the folks at home in such a trying time.

I will visit the cemetery in Spokane because a few days ago it was 40 years since my father died. It seems like something to stop by and acknowledge. And while I’m there I will seek out names and dates — and find someone who died in military service. I can call that person’s name out loud and say thank you. Think some about what was brought home to me recently.

Our grandson collided with another player going after the frisbee in a game of ultimate. The other guy got to it first. But our boy landed on his opponent’s arm, breaking it. Our grandson is 14 — not an age for too much blubbering. But he cried knowing he had done that.

I can’t know the stories buried with the soldiers. The things they had to do. Some of them weren’t much older than our grandson. What they inflicted during war was no accident. Or what was inflicted on them. It is sobering.

I’ll honor my dad at the cemetery this week. Just as all of us honor the memories of those we love — and mark significant anniversaries. And though he wasn’t a military man, I’m certain he buried some who were.

But equally on May 30, I’ll visit the grave of a soldier to pay homage to the fact that he or she — whatever had to be done — was very much there for our country when it counted.