memory weekend

Every year, I hear the voices decrying the traditions surrounding Memorial Day, “It shouldn’t be a day for barbecues, but for remembering our dead.”

And while I absolutely believe we should remember those who have gone before– especially our family members and the soldiers who gave their lives to make us free– I think they’d be the first to tell us, “Go home, play, fire up the grill, make memories with the people you love.”

The days before my mother’s death, she went over and over old family stories, anecdotes, long-ago picnics, “We’re so lucky,” she said, “to have so many happy memories.”

In the end, she pushed aside the hard times and remembered only the holidays, vacations, silly pranks. Nostalgia, they say, sifts through our varied experiences and chooses the best, happiest times. Our memories are who we are, and we all want to believe we have a happy story.

All the more reason to celebrate a three day weekend, visit the zoo (even Erik came along), play Frisbee in the yard and move the chicken coop on a whim (it was fun. really.).

Nostalgia sweetens with time, but even now our hours together (especially with Ben home!) shimmer with golden light.