Memorial Day

When Pat and I first moved to Texas we were surprised at the lack of celebration of this late May holiday. Public schools are often in session on this day. The decorating of cemeteries just isn’t done like I remember it happening in Idaho. Someone explained to me that Memorial Day was a “Yankee” thing and southerners don’t observe it to the same degree.
What I particularly remember about Memorial Day is the decorating of graves. I don’t remember Mother and Dad initiating this activity but they supported Grandma (Emma) in her determination to honor the dead. I do think Dad liked visiting the cemetery because of the American flags at so many grave sites and the sense of reverence in the cemetery.
Grandma had the grave decorating down to a pure science. First we had to clean the headstone. This required liquid acid that she’d get from the cemetery headquarters. She’d take along a glass jar to receive and carry this. She was very careful and full of caution about how to deal with this caustic material. We’d slowly and carefully pour the acid onto the metal headstone and then use a wire brush to scrub and make our best effort to remove the damage done by the past year’s heat, cold, snow and rain. I both remember doing the scrubbing and watching Grandma do it. I think as she aged and her grandchildren got older these roles were reversed. After the acid and scrubbing we would pour water on the headstone to wash away the acid. Water could be collected from a nearby spigot used for watering the huge expanse of greenery at the cemetery. Finally a coat of oil (I remember using a dark oil like what would be used for keeping lawn tools lubricated) was spread on the headstone to protect the metal. The result was a shiny and cleaner than when we arrived headstone.
Then the flowers. Grandma and Grandpa’s headstone had a “built in” vase. That would be put in place and filled with flowers from Grandma’s productive flower beds and shrubs. There were always lots of lilacs sweetly perfuming the air. Peonies were also available in abunance. I think it is interesting that these two showy flowers are in bloom just in time for Memorial Day. Most years Grandma’s snowball plant was in bloom. I remember taking those puffy white flower balls and being required to outline the entire gravesite by laying the flowers on the ground as if tracing the grave site with a white pencil.
After Grandma’s death the tradition continued as if she were standing there to supervise. She trained us well. We added sweet baby Jayson Roth’s tiny headstone to our yearly cleaning and decorating tradition. While we never cleaned Grandpa Armga’s headstone we’d look for it. It has been consistently hard to find. I don’t know why we could never get the visual coordinates figured out and memorized for future years.
I do remember one special Memorial Day with Mother and Dad. I think I was the only one living with them at the time and the only one who went on the outing with them. We drove up to and through Sun Valley. We went beyond that following the Big Wood River and several miles further down the road, but before Easleys we pulled off and into a campsite. It was quite cold and there were drifts of snow still on the ground. Dad built a small fire in the fire grate and then we roasted hotdogs and heated up a small can of Pork and Beans still in the can. I particularly remember standing by the side of the car talking with Dad. Regrettably, I can't remember what was said. I do remember I enjoyed being with them that day as we had a relaxing drive and lunch together.