Memorial Day – Time for Reflection

Every year we visited this cemetery.  High on a hill surrounded by cedar scrub brush, it was always amazing to see how green the graves’ surroundings were kept.  We usually arrived early.  We brought anything flowering at home with us to decorate the grave sites.  This year the wild yellow rose bush crowding the driveway was full at just the right time.  We also had some peonies, roses, and a few remaining lilacs.  Flags had already been placed by the American Legion and various bunches from available others’ gardens filled vases here and ther on their own familiy’s sites.

Before the ceremony and gun salute on the hill, there were ceremonies on two bridges that covered the North Fork Gunnison River on the edge of town. Every few feet of the railings, flags were posted and it was a beautiful sight seeing Old Glory waving in the breeze.  The same American Legion volunteers placed them and also performed the ritual of reading lost military personnel from that year.  Guns blared and a wreath was thrown into the river.  My kids and I enjoyed watching it float its way down through the shallow areas, hoping it would travel on.  To us it was a symbol of lost lives and the hope of them continuing on some way.

 
Looking around for pinecones to fill in spaces around the flowers.

     
Taking a moment at her great grandmother’s marker.
                   
This hill overlooked the valley of Paonia, Colorado.  It was one of two cemeteries in the area but most of our relatives were buried here.  The particular year pictured first finds my granddaughter adjusting the yellow roses just so around her grandfather’s headstone.The children were taught to respect the sites, carefully stepping only where they should.  Each visit, stories were told of who the residents were and how they related to the living.  Some of the oldest markers told of infant deaths, truly remarkable to the young children.

After placing our flowers, it was time for the local American Legion Post members to recite the list of military personnel from the year past, usually including young soldiers in foreign lands.  Then a salute of gunfire and sometimes an actual trumpeted version of “Taps”.  In some years it was a recording, but just as powerful, sparking tears in the attendees.  When our children were very small and not able to grasp the complete meaning, they would scramble with other children present, to gather the empty rifle shells and they each still have some today.

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