Remembering what memorial day is all about can come with sad memories. My dad survived the Battle of the Bulge in WW II and it took its toll on his life the rest of his years. My brother texted me this morning and he too remembered the two that I remembered on this day. George Horton died on the shores of France and is buried over there. Norman Bettis, my age, died in an exploding truck, in Vietnam. He is buried with his parents in Osceola, Iowa cemetery. In many ways we lived with the survivors through the years either by facebook or by real life experiences. I own the oak kitchen table that I am sure George Horton's parents wept over during their loss. Iva and John Horton gave me the table and I never thought about it until later in my life. Iva wanted to be sure that I was going to take good care of it and I have since 1971.
I fly the flag daily to remember my dad's sacrifice back in the 1940s. It isn't decorative but symbolic of my childhood, living my young years with my father who had just left the war five years before my birth. Dad would talk about the day of Pearl Harbor and all other events. He did want his children to understand. It was just common for us to hear about his bad experiences very often if we would listen. His good experiences of his short trip to visit Nrtre Dame before he entered into the fighting were welcomed.