To Remember and Honor

Veteran’s Day 2008

I always think about my Dad on Veteran’s Day. It’s not that he ever made a big thing of his military service; in fact, he was very low key about it. I knew that he had served in the war, (WWII), but neither I nor my brother got any details. That’s the way veterans of Dad’s generation were, for the most part. They had done their duty, and that was that. Some joined the American Legion or VFW, and spent time with fellow Vets at the Post swapping memories. My Dad never did that. But every so often a couple of his buddies from not too far away would come over. They’d sit around the living room and talk about all the other people they knew and things that happened. They’d laugh and talk for hours. My brother and I would just sit in the background and listen. It sounded like the War was just one big prank, and good time after another. But every now and then they’d mention a name, or a place, or a day and everything would get quiet for a while.

After a time, one of them would start with another yarn and the pace would pick up and get back to a happy rhythm again. But now, years later as I think about it, they probably communicated more deep feelings during the silences than any other part of the conversation. That was their way. They did what they had to do, and moved on…but they didn’t forget. They just kept some things very close, and shared them very carefully.

When Dad died it was winter. The cemetery in our little New England town was frozen, and a strong wind blew a thick snowstorm into the group, as we stood around his grave. I remember the Veterans who performed the final Honors for Dad struggling in the hard-blowing snow with his flag. They did as they always had: they kept at the job until it was done, then handed over the folded triangle and moved on.

Dad’s name and their names are listed together in a big, framed memorial in front of the public library downtown at the head of Main Street. I suspect there will be a ceremony today in front of that memorial, as there is every year. I won’t be there; I’ve been far away from that little town for many years…but I still remember. And I still say Thank You to Dad and his generation…and to those in my generation, like my brother, who served, and to my children and grandchildren and their generation. To everyone who served, is serving, or will serve: Thank you. Know you are appreciated and cherished.

-Geezerguy