Photo by Midge Frazel, 2015 |
The Purple Heart
There's no question that my dad was a brave soldier of World War II. This shadow box of his medals and ribbons hung on the wall near his armchair in his home. I did notice that he would look up at them, like other people look out the window. My dad died in that chair with his shadow box looking on. They hung silently there while my mom continued to live there and fall deeper and deeper into the world of dementia.
When my mother passed away, I decided that I should make sure that all the important items were removed from the house in case of a break-in or fire. Like all genealogists, I suppose, the family photos, the Bible and my father's medals were thought of first and went in our car to our home. They hang in my office and my Dad's burial flag is in a flag holder in our living room.
My husband, a veteran himself who went to War, decorates our house on both Memorial Day and the 4th of July with flags and bunting. He puts out our flag everyday he can.
He didn't wonder when I bought this single serve sized Frosted Flakes cereal today. He's outside now putting out a small flag under our only tree in memory of my father.
Like me, my Dad loved the quiet of the morning with his favorite cereal and coffee. I guess he was highly caffeinated too. In his final years, suffering in silence of cancer, he may have thought of the men with whom he served. Those who came home and those who didn't are on our minds each Memorial Day.
Freedom is essential. Never take it for granted.
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