Today I made mourning bands. Twenty-seven of them, to be exact, because that’s all the fabric I had. They are as close to WWII Commonwealth regulations as I could get them and it was important to me that I make them on Memorial Day. They will be used next weekend at the Reading Air Show to honor Jezzy. I wasn’t able to make his memorial service, and I won’t be at Reading next weekend, but at least I was able to contribute to his send-off in a small way. From what I understand, colors in the Commonwealth camp will be flown at half-mast in Scott’s honor, and will be raised again on Sunday morning after church parade.
I’ve tried explaining the significance of Memorial Day to Sweet Daughter, telling her how those people she saw in camouflage at our last event keep us safe. How some go far away from home to keep the bad guys from coming here and hurting us. How her daddy used to be a guy in camouflage, as was his daddy, and my daddy, and my mother’s daddy.
I think some of it, at least, sunk in. Tonight at dinner she suggested we say the Pledge of Allegiance instead of Grace. “After all” she said, “it IS Memorial Day!”
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