I never really understood what Memorial Day was all about as a kid, other than spending the long weekend at the lake with my parents or in someone’s swimming pool.
I just kind of figured it was a fun weekend and my dad didn’t have to work on Monday, which meant that I was out in the yard with him doing things I really didn’t want to do: mowing the grass, edging the lawn, pulling weeds, you know, the things that he didn’t want to do.
My dad passed away last year, and for the first time, I didn’t have him around for Memorial Day weekend. I caught myself out in my yard, doing the things that he made me do as a child, hands in the soil, thinking about some of the funny things he used to say to me.
I think maybe as you get older, these holidays mean more to you, because the older I get, the more people I know have passed away. Sad at first thinking about them, then chuckles when the sadness turns to good memories of days gone by, funny things they used to say and do.
I miss my dad, he was a little crazy, but a good crazy. He could always make me laugh when I didn’t want to.