Memorial Day weekend is full of memories for me…from random to significant, the last full weekend in May has always meant something to me.
As a younger child,I spent every three-day weekend in a camper, towing a boat, and fishing. I have many fond memories of spending time with my family trolling the likes of Blue Mesa when there was a three-day weekend. These were the ‘bonding moments’ and we didn’t truly appreciate them.
My father used to call us ‘spoiled-brats’ and I now understand.
We were complaining about spending our holiday weekend on the lake, with the family, and not a care in the world. We didn’t have to work to make ends meet. We had no idea how great life was, we complained about spending too much time in a boat. Granted, it wasn’t a boat like what they have here, but we were in the middle of a dry state where what we called “lakes” barely pass as potholes here.
We were blessed because our parents gave us a childhood. Bless them for that.
My first Memorial Day Weekends Past are all about camping, family and friends.
My father is a veteran and gave more for this country than most. Many of my ramblings are about my father’s military experience. Every one of these weekend adventures would include story time where my father and Uncle Bill would regale us with tales that surely they had been told or made up. At the end of ‘story time’ we would observe a moment of silence for those who had sacrificed so much for our freedom. Never did I completely understand.