My Memorial Day memories are of the parades in the small town of North Collins.
All of the veterans would march.
As a child I was drawn to the uniforms and the formations.
I knew that it meant more to our country than what I could comprehend.
I also knew that men went off to war and they didn't always come home, and that some who did come home weren't the same as when they left.
The looks on the faces of the men was deadly serious. I could tell that the holiday meant more to them than just cooking out in the backyard.
And I knew that a lot of those men were friends with my Mom and Dad.
But I was confused, of course.
Why did there have to be wars?
I recall being glad that my Dad never had to go.
I remember asking a nun...if it was murder to kill a man...what made it different if it was in war.
She stumbled over the answer.
And I think of all of those things as an adult.
Even now, with all of the turmoil in our own country, with all the back and forth between the two political parties...
...can't we all come together for one day?
Hopefully everyone puts all their petty little questions aside...
Those who gave up everything...
...for the good of all Americans.
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