Coop's Corner: My / Our Memorial Day

Tuesday, May 31, 2016

My / Our Memorial Day

A four day weekend for me, I did my best to not waste it. Only 50 miles or so ridden and those not until Monday morning. Projects and chores done, meals and coffee with friends all made the time off rich and good.

Visiting dad's flag among the so many others up in Oakwood made it even better. I parked here and walked a few of the loops where other family and friends have been laid to rest. Dad was lucky enough to come home and the most I ever remember of his South Pacific stories were the fun parts with his buddies and the typhoon he didn't think he'd survive. I heard enough more about some of his friends that never made it back home.

An Asian bike in front of an American Sailor's headstone. It took awhile but dad came to know and understand things that had to change and that during his rich and full life, did.

The lawn was mowed, some oil changed and in the late evening, a picnic on the bluff. Throughout the year and not always just in season, we take advantage of our next door neighbor, Frontenac State Park by going Sunday (in this case, Monday) evening when, the crowds gone, the park gets very quiet for the week. I started the campfire at 7 and we enjoyed our last s'mores just before 10pm.

Hanna is home from Cleveland for the week and it was paramount that at least one evening was spent overlooking the Mississippi and our State to the east.

14 comments:

Erik RMay 31, 2016 at 10:08 PM
Your Memorial Day was much like mine. Drove out to Greenwood Cemetery to see the VFW/Legion program and pay respects at the family plot. Took a few pics, but mine had the truck behind the family headstone.. Cut the grass at the cabin... Cooked out in the backyard.
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redlegsridesMay 31, 2016 at 10:24 PM
Nature is best enjoyed with minimal amount of friends, but sometimes, when alone. That quiet park near you sounds ideal.
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David MasseJune 1, 2016 at 5:45 AM
We pay our respects to our veterans on September 11th.

It always impressed me that on US Memorial Day, the Stars and Stripes were planted on the tombs of each of the US service personel buried in the military cemetery in Pointe Claire Quebec where my grandfather is buried. Many of them served with Canada's armed forces in the early parts of the world wars before the US joined in.

It amazes me that those men and women are never forgotten on Memorial day.

I'm not sure what organization plants the flags.

It's very impressive and heart warming.
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motormikeJune 1, 2016 at 5:52 AM
.. respect.....memories ... then time with family.... repeated a million fold across the land... :)
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SonjaMJune 1, 2016 at 12:10 PM
What a lovely view. Despite the lack of mileage I'd say the time was well spent with other important stuff.
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VStar LadyJune 1, 2016 at 7:47 PM
That sounded to me like a perfect way to spend your long weekend.
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TrobairitzJune 2, 2016 at 9:38 AM
A lovely way to spend the weekend. I agree with Sonja, the other stuff besides riding is all very important too. Life is all about balance. Well, I guess motorcycles are too. :-)
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"it was auspicious to approach any situation from a deferential, inquisitive place. Conceding that there is much to learn is the best blueprint for discovering something new." ----B. Fuller

The Man straightened stiffly above the block of salt fixed to the stake and looked at the young cattle ringed about him. The pasture was holding out well and the stock was looking good. This bunch would be ready to sell in another month, maybe sooner if the market was right.

A stir among the cattle down near the river brought him round to face the swinging bridge he'd built years before. Someone was coming toward him from the bridge. Someone in breeches, but it didn't look like a man, somehow. What was a woman doing in his pasture this time of night?

He bent over the salt again; maybe if he paid her no heed she'd go on past and let him mind his own business. He heard her footsteps come nearer and stop. "Good evening," she said.

Her voice was smooth with book learning but friendlier than most, and somehow almost shy. When he made no answer she went on, "I've been sitting on your swinging bridge....I thought I'd like to say thank-you...." Her voice stumbled a little, then she tried once more.

"You are Mr. ____". His name sounded strange in her voice, but she went on to tell her own.

"That's what they've called me the last sixty-eight years," he said, looking past her face to the hills fast darkening under a single star. "I reckon the woods are free for those that like to walk there."

The unfamiliar voice laughed a little. "That's what Emerson said: the grove belongs to the man who walks in it with an open heart....On that basis I guess I've owned part of your woods for a good many years.....". She made a final effort. "I've always wanted to thank you....."

Something deeply hidden stirred in him. "There's a stump up there, in the notch of the woods", he said slowly, "that before the timber grew so tall you could stand on it and see all over this country."

He kept still a minute, remembering, then, "I used to stand up there an' look at things, an' wonder how they come to be like they was, an' how the hills was created, an' all the things in Nature.... I told my wife I guessed all the religion I ever had I got standin' on that old stump, a-wonderin'..." He turned his face away from her.

She helped him out. "I know about that, a little. This afternoon I saw......." Her account of a thing she had really taken time to look at eased him, and he answered with telling of the badger den at the foot of the swinging bridge.

When she had gone, he turned to watch her. After a moment she stood clear and unmoving against the sky. You could hear the sounds of the river where she stood. She was one that could stand still long enough, he thought, really to hear what a body was saying, or a river.

Then she walked down the farther side of the slope and was gone. ------Margaret Snyder from A Chosen Valley

Fall was the end of harvest, end of the growing season, a burst of color and sun-warmth before killing frost turned the land gray and cold. Fall was a moody time, full of both life and death, a time when we were reminded of the power outside of us, reminded that the seasons happen to us. We do not invite the change to come.-------Ben Logan, from The Land Remembers

When you get those rare moments of clarity, those flashes when the universe makes sense, you try desperately to hold onto them. They are the lifeboats for the darker times, when the vastness of it all, the incomprehensible nature of life is completely elusive. So the question becomes or should have been all along, what would you do if you knew you only had one day, or one week, or one month to live. What lifeboat would you grab onto? What secret would you tell? What band would you see? What person would you declare your love to? What wish would you fulfill? What exotic locale would you fly to for coffee? What book would you write? ------- Ben Tyler

We were also cautioned about journeying far from home. As an example of the dangers, the town had a badly crippled lady named Lucy, who as a girl had traveled to New York City. As she traveled along a sidewalk, sightseeing, she was struck by the outstretched hand of a suicide who had leapt from high above. Her spine had been shattered and for the rest of her life, she was to walk bent forward at the waist, tapping the sidewalk with two black canes. Whenever the subject of travel to a big city was raised, someone would say, "Just remember what happened to Miss Tripp." ---- Ted Kooser, from Local Wonders

"Steamboats are like wedding cakes without the complications...." ----Mark Twain

"It's not about having lots of money, it's about having lots of options......." -----Chris Rock

As the very proud father of three former ponytail wearers, hopefully I can get away with this....."For the past few years it's been fashionable for young women to wear ball caps and to snap the strap on the back under their ponytails. I like the looks of that, their shiny ponytails jauntily swinging, but it's hard not to think of the rear ends of horses. There's a piece of harness called the crupper that goes just under a horse's tail to keep its nose down. If the horse lifts its head to look for a way out of whatever predicament it's in, the crupper tightens and hurts the horse. But it's foolish for parents to think that a ball cap might keep a young woman from running away. Anybody can see they're made for running." ------Ted Kooser, Local Wonders

"I tell the guy's girlfriend that the only difference between the book's main character Phaedrus and myself is that I am neither brilliant, tortured or insane, she looks at my bike and there is an uncomfortable silence." --------ahendepe (a.k.a. Vermin)