Today is Memorial Day,for many the first day of summer, a
day for picnics and boating and watching car races and
shopping. For some of us it is a day to remember.
I sent a small bouqet of white carnations and roses, as I
do every year, to a cemetery in a small town in Indiana to
be placed on my first husband's grave. He died in November
of 1972 in Vietnam when his helicopter crashed. He was 23
years old. We'd been married less than a year. His parents
died many years ago and he was an only child but I know his
aunt and uncle are there today to say a prayer. I'm with
them in spirit. We remember.
When John and I went to the East Coast a few years ago we
went to Arlington and the Vietnam War Memorial. It was
overwhelming to see the the endless graves and the long, long
black wall of names. There were so many, so many. It made
me falter; John had to take my arm or I would have fallen to
my knees. We remember.