Memorial Day to me is my grandfather.
Papa served two terms in the Korean war. I remember when I was little finding a box at his house with various mementos from the Army. Money. A knife. Pictures. And I remember the awe that came over me. "Papa is a soldier!"
He never really wanted to talk about his time there. When I was little that didn't make sense to me, but it does now.
To this day Papa has the word "Army" tattooed on his arm. Its faded now but still legible.
Tragically, my soldier grandfather, who served two terms in the Korean war, now bed ridden in his Highland Indiana home while suffering from Alzheimer's, was told recently that he is ineligible for financial help from the Veteran's administration.
Apparently his tattoo isn't legible to various entities of our government.
Memorial Day to me is my grandfather.
Memorial Day to me is also my cousin. My uncles. Various friends.
I have deep thankfulness for these individuals who sacrifice and have sacrificed in a way that really can't be fathomed by those of us who haven't done it.
I pray that what they've given doesn't fade away like an old tattoo.
This pic is of Papa and Baylee, taken on Memorial Day six years ago.
