Memorial Day

I have always loved Memorial Day. In recent years my family has started a new tradition where we head to Fort Snelling (National Cemetery in the Twin Cities) sometime after lunch. It is our way of reminding Gretchen & me of the sacrifices many men & women made in order for us to enjoy the freedoms we possess. It is also a way of tangibly showing our girls this same sacrifice. We hope the lasting impressions of seeing families stooped over graves and women walking around the cemetery with tears in their eyes will embed in the girls mind and hearts that the life they live didn’t happen without overcoming difficulties in our nation and world.

Before we moved to MN we would hit up the Abington Township parade in PA on Memorial Day…usually with our good friends the Chapmans. Tara & Gretchen are parade freaks so every year they would have it all planned out. Some time later in the day we would all reconvene for a Memorial Day cookout. There was always plenty of food!

But before even that, I had another Memorial Day tradition that I will always cherish. Each Memorial Day for about 5-6 years (High School & into college) my old man and I would drive down to Gallipolis, OH on Memorial Day. Gallipolis is a town in southern OH on the Ohio River. This is the town my parents grew up. My dad and I would head down there and visit whatever family was still around (depending on the year). We would grab a milkshake and coney dog (usually at the Shake Shoppe) and head to the two graveyards where my mom & dad’s parents and other families were buried.

My mom’s families are buried in a graveyard right outside of Gallipolis named Mound Hill. Mound Hill sits up on this hill and from the top of the cemetery you can see down into the town and the beautiful Ohio River. It is a gorgeous view. My dad’s family is buried in a little cemetery 15-20 miles outside of Gallipolis in a little place called German Ridge. Even to this day I couldn’t find the place if I had to because it sits out in the woods away from towns, paved roads, and people. Up on the hillside sits a little Lutheran church and 100 or so graves. Two of these graves are my Grandpa & Grandma Miller. German Ridge is quite possibly the most surreal place I know. There is this since of peace and calm there. It is as if nature around the place knows to respect those that lie there and glorify the God that created these people and gave them life.

I have many fond memories of the trips my dad and I made those Memorial Days. One year, before my legal driving age, I remember my dad asking me if I wanted to drive his truck on some of those back roads. I thought he was kidding until he handed me the keys. He gave me a quick lesson on using a clutch and then off we went. The poor truck took a beating that day…shaking and jerking all over the road as I attempted to move from 1st to 2nd gear, etc., etc. There were many more wonderful memories but the ones I remember most were the times of silence at German Ridge. I always remember standing there observing my dad as he stood over the tombstone of his father and mother. I would wonder what thoughts were running through his head. Was he thinking of memories or missed opportunities? Did he wish they were not lying in the ground but standing next to him? I always felt horrible for my dad in those moments. I had no idea what to say or how to respond. So I would stand there in silence until it was time to go.

Honestly, I would give anything today to be in Ohio right now. I wish I could get into the car with my dad once more and take a trip to Gallipolis. We could stop in and see my uncle (his brother), grab a shake and a hot dog, visit the graves on Mound Hill, and then take the winding roads to German Ridge. If we went this year there would be one more grave to visit. My dad and I could stand there once again. Maybe this year it wouldn’t be in silence. We could reminisce about the daughter he loved and the sister I cherished. We could laugh, possible cry, and allow the peace and tranquility of that beautiful place to nourish our aching hearts. We could look into the blue sky and try to remember that the God that created everything & everyone around us was still in control. That life doesn’t end at a place like German Ridge, it really just begins. We could remember that although our hearts break we will see them all once again. That is the hope of Memorial Day to me. A day not just to remember the past, but to appreciate the future we have because of the death & resurrection of the greatest man to ever walk this earth. He is alive and so we shall be forevermore!