Posted by purplemary54 on May 25, 2014
I’ve been too neglectful lately. I kind of stopped posting on weekends, but didn’t say anything to y’all. I think weekends will have irregular posts from now on; I’ll at least try to do reposts if I don’t have anything to say. And I think Freaky Fridays will become an irregular feature, too. As much weirdness as there is in the music world, I don’t notice or care about all of it. (Yeah, I said it. There’s music out there I just don’t care about. Not everything makes it on to my radar.)
But this song seemed appropriate today. There are so many people remembering the loved ones they’ve lost to war, for one thing. Patriotic music isn’t really my thing, but remembering people is. (I’ve had Dad on my mind a lot, although no more than usual, honestly.) And I spent a little time going through some of my knickknacks and doodads that I’ve had put away since I re-did the house last summer. I was dusting and sorting some things, trying to gauge what kind of shelves or displays I’ll need for my bedroom. (New furniture is a ways off yet, but I wanted to know how much I’ll need to plan/save for).
It was nice to see those thing again. A couple of music boxes that my aunt gave to me during my teenage years. Dolls my grandparents brought back from international trips. A glass rose I bought from a stand on my college campus. Teddy bears, and a few pictures. And a whole passel of Disney figurines. They don’t seem to make them anymore, although I find them once in a while when I visit Disneyland/California Adventure. Small, glazed porcelain figures of various characters. Starting sometime in my teens, I’d get at least a couple every time I went (they generally weren’t very expensive). There’s a lot of memories wrapped up in all that porcelain and glass Things that make me smile. Some things I don’t remember how I got, it’s been so long. Things I think I’ve had my whole life.
That’s what memorial day is about. Remembering the people and emotions behind the official photographs and war memorials. Remembering the toys and baby shoes as well as the medals and flags. I think the media and people get so wrapped up in being patriotic that they forget the people. The things they once held and loved aren’t the same, but at least they’re tangible reminders of the person behind the patriotic rhetoric.
I suppose the same could be said for the people killed yesterday by yet another psychopath with legally owned guns. (And boy, oh boy, was this one out of his ever lovin’ mind.) There will be public memorials and endless interviews with friends and family, but the real memories will be left in the things these young people cherished. And in the hearts of their loved ones.