A holiday is coming up on Monday: Veterans Day. I don’t usually think about it much past the kids not going to school. The banks will be closed. The mail will not be delivered. This year is different. I am thinking about the national holiday a lot.
Early in the week, a friend sent me an email encouraging me to donate to a Veteran for medical services. I think highly of my friend and even more so because in her small way, she recognized Veterans beyond a day off from packing sack lunches and carpools. Of course I would donate; I want to help.
I thought more about the meaning of Veterans Day and of course thought of my dad. It would make him happy if I donated. If he were still alive, he would hang an American flag on his house too. He joined the Navy in WWII and stayed loyal to the service for 40 years, working one weekend a month in the reserves. To my dad, service to our country was a very powerful relationship.
This is only a third!
In Lafayette, where I live, we have a hillside covered with over 4,000 white crosses, representing the soldiers killed in the Iraq and Afghanistan wars. Some crosses are designated with a Star of David, Crescent Moon or Dharma Wheel. A large sign reads “In memory of our troops.” The number of fallen, tracked since 2003, is updated each month. It is visible from the highway and from the BART commuter train passing through town. I’ve picked up a few out-of-towners at the station; the hillside is almost the first thing they ask about before even saying hello.
Each visitor looks at the hillside differently. It’s like the inkblot of the old woman or the young lady. Which do you see? If they ask I describe both perspectives. Some offer up their opinion. Some visitors see it as a memorial for those lost to war, a selfless act of duty to our country. Other visitors see it as a reminder of the lives lost in a long and senseless fight. Either way, the fallen are remembered.
I did a little research to get the history of Veteran’s Day. It goes back to the end of WWI. The fighting ended on the 11th day of the 11th month at the 11th hour. Over the years the name changed from Armistice Day to Veterans Day and the date from October to November. All soldiers are honored on Veterans Day, alive or not.
Come Monday, I will think of my grandfathers, my dad and my brothers who all served our country. I will give thanks to them for allowing me a break from the rigorous routine of getting ready for school and driving around town enough times to make any taxi driver rich. Thank you Veterans, for giving me a day to pause for you.
Veterans Gallery
My younger brother is the very proud owner of each flag given to a family member when a serviceman passes. An honorable way to honor all.
My Dad, WWII.
My Dad’s Dad, WWI. (48 Stars)
My Mom’s Dad, WWI. (48 Stars)
Hey Francie –
Great post. I didn’t know that Grandpa McQuillan was in the service. Which branch was he in?
I like your posts on the Pope too! He seems to be his own man and is making quite the impression worldwide….in a good way. Much needed I think.
Grandpa McQ was in the army, a translator. He could speak French, kind of important back in WWI. Wish it was passed down.
Glad you are enjoying the pope posts. I love that guy and I love writing to him. We have deep conversations, one-sided however.
Keep reading. And don’t forget to pass the shoezle!