logo-image

A Day To Remember

Shackelford Funeral Directors • May 24, 2017

This coming Monday is officially Memorial Day, the glorious ending to a slightly extended weekend that for years has marked the beginning of summer, even though summer is still a ways away.  There’ll be grilling and picnicking and bar-be-queing and all sorts of frivolity—but in the course of all the fun, maybe we need to pause and remember.

This day didn’t start out as a celebration.  It began in 1868 when the Grand Army of the Republic, an organization of Union veterans, determined that on this day they would decorate the graves of those Union soldiers who died in battle.  The South had their own traditions, observed at their own time, but as the years passed the traditions merged and all Americans who gave their lives in service to their country were honored.  Those observances gave birth to the holiday’s original name, Decoration Day—a name that was widely used until 1882.  Even then, the designation “Memorial Day” did not become common until after World War II.  And it was always celebrated on May 30 th , no matter on what day of the week that might fall.

But the powers that be saw fit to take advantage of the holiday, along with three others, to create the long weekend we have all grown to know and love.  The Uniform Monday Holiday Act , passed on June 28, 1968, issued a change of address for the observance, moving it from May 30 th to the last Monday in May.  And thus was born the three-day weekend.

Although the vast majority of Americans are probably thrilled with their upcoming day off, some veterans’ organizations aren’t so much.  Their objection might seem difficult to comprehend, but their argument may be valid.  By taking a day meant to honor those who sacrificed themselves for the greater good and using it as an opportunity to legitimately miss work, they feel the true meaning has been lost.  To quote the Veterans of Foreign Wars in their 2002 Memorial Day Address:

“Changing the date merely to create three-day weekends has undermined the very meaning of the day.  No doubt, this has contributed a lot to the general public’s nonchalant observance of Memorial Day.”

So, are they right?  Have the smell of meat on the grill and the beckoning of the lake or pool pushed the true meaning of the day from our minds?  Sadly, for many the answer is yes.  We forget that we have this day because there were men and women who died in service to our country.  Pay attention to that, please.  This day honors those soldiers who died while on active duty, not those who served and survived.  Their recognition comes on Veterans Day.  We forget those families who sent their sons and daughters and husbands and wives and brothers and sisters into battle, praying for a safe return that never came.

If you truly want to understand the meaning of our upcoming holiday—and you’re close enough to a national military cemetery—I suggest you take a walk through the grounds.  Move slowly and read the inscriptions on the monuments there.  If you’re at Shiloh you’ll find the majority of the graves for those killed in action during the battle are marked with only a number.  If their names were known they were never inscribed on the stones that stand row after row after row, gleaming in the sunlight or resting beneath the sweeping boughs of ancient cedars, bearing silent witness to the horrors of war and the loss it brings.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with an extra day of relaxation, of fun with family and friends.  But at some point this Monday—perhaps  as the sun begins to sink beneath the horizon and the festivities wind down—please take a moment to reflect.  Think about those who gave all so you can enjoy the day—and hope that future generations will not be called upon to do the same.

 

 

 

 

By Lisa Thomas 17 Apr, 2024
I have a confession to make. There are days when I’ll set the air conditioning on 65 and get the house cold enough to hang meat . . . and then light the fireplace.
By Lisa Thomas 10 Apr, 2024
If you’re a semi-regular reader, then you know I’ve been enduring that right of passage known as “The Packing of Parental Possessions”. For the last several months, the focus has been on cleaning out the apartment they occupied for 30 years . . .
By Lisa Thomas 04 Apr, 2024
When John Jacobs died of pancreatic cancer on October 29, 2005, his family was devastated. The New York defense attorney believed in staying connected to those he cherished the most, something he managed to accomplish by calling them three or four times a day on his beloved Motorola T720 cell phone . . .
By Lisa Thomas 28 Mar, 2024
There’s a place I’m privileged to visit on occasion—a civilized wilderness of sorts—where very few people intrude and my desire for hermitism (not to be confused with hermetism which is a philosophical or religious system based on the teaching of Hermes Trismegistus . . . mine just means I like being left alone) is fulfilled.
By Lisa Thomas 20 Mar, 2024
I am a lover of words and occasionally manage to put them together in a half-way decent manner. Ask me to speak to you spontaneously . . . off the cuff . . . with no preparation . . . and my brain freezes.
By Lisa Thomas 14 Mar, 2024
In a bookcase in the office in Savannah, you’ll find all kinds of books, mostly on grief (which makes perfect sense given that it’s an office in a funeral home).
By Lisa Thomas 07 Mar, 2024
When my daughter was in second grade the music program at her school disappeared. I don’t remember if it was a lack of personnel or a lack of funding or a lack of personnel caused by a lack of funding . . .
By Lisa Thomas 29 Feb, 2024
On November 21st of 2021, I wrote the blog “The Ultimate Reminder” about a gentleman I’d literally known all my life . . . about his acknowledgment that his circle of older family members and friends was rapidly dwindling . . . about how hard it was to watch them leave.
By Lisa Thomas 22 Feb, 2024
Recently local and national news outlets picked up the story of Pauline Pusser’s exhumation, turning it into front page news and lead stories.
By Lisa Thomas 14 Feb, 2024
We didn’t meet under the best of circumstances—I was the funeral director and he was the husband grieving the imminent death of his wife.
More Posts
Share by: