When I was a kid, my favorite part of Memorial Day Weekend was the Parade. Not to watch, but to march in. I was a Girl Scout, those were my marching buddies. The parade route was not real long, through town, up a really big hill to the cemetery. It was almost always cool in the morning since summer up north starts WAY later than summer here in the south.
Arriving at the appointed spot, Girl Scouts, Boy Scouts, Fire Department, VFW, Police Department and the usual high school band and cheerleaders. Standing in the silence of the graves, hands over our hearts. In the distance the solo trumpeter playing taps. The orders given to honor those who made us a free nation. Ready! Aim! Fire! The shock of each volley, even though I knew it was coming. Seven rifles fire three times. Deafening in the silence of the place we stood.
Thank you to all those who have given so that we may live free.
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