At the Parade
At the Memorial Day parade when my daughter Madison was 4, she asked me why all of the people around us were taking off their hats. I told her that it was to show respect and thanks to the soldiers passing. "What I can I do? I don't have a hat." she said. "You can wave," I said. "I want them to see me better," she said. I picked her up.
At the Memorial Day parade when Madison was 8, she asked me why we have a parade. I told her it was to show respect and gratitude to the soldiers who had risked their lives so that our country could remain free. "Why does that make you cry?" she asked. "I'm thinking of the ones who didn't make it home," I said. "And of people around the world who still aren't free."
At the Memorial Day parade when Madison was 10, she asked what Memorial Day was all about. My husband, a history buff, was almost too glad to tell her how Memorial Day was originally called Decoration Day because it was a day on which the graves of fallen soldiers were decorated, and that it was established in the years after the Civil War originally to honor those who died in that war. We carry on that tradition today to remember all who have died and who have risked their lives in the cause of freedom. "Is it a good tradition?" she asked. "The best," David said.
At the Memorial Day parade when Madison was 13, she started marching in the parade as a fifer in the Excelsior Fife & Drum Corps. I watched my baby place her Civil War kepi on her head and solemnly take her spot in front of three rows of Vietnam veterans. She knew what she was doing. I wiped my eyes quickly before she could notice.
This weekend, as Madison marches in the parade, still fifing, I'll be thinking less of the past than of the future: Madison's friend Mayra will be starting at the United States Air Force Academy in the fall. Mayra's older brother Carlos is ROTC at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute. I had lunch with their mom, Ivette, last week, and I could see she's both proud of her kids and apprehensive about what the future holds.
It used to be Ivette's and my job to keep our kids safe and engaged. Soon, it will be her kids' jobs to keep the rest of us safe and free. As I'm applauding each veteran marching by, I'll also be silently saluting Mayra, and Carlos, and all of the parents whose kids have taken on this responsibility. They'll know what they're doing, and we'll do our best to deserve it.
No one will have to ask why I'm crying this year.
—Debra Ross, publisher
This Memorial Day, please go to a parade or ceremony or celebration. Please take your kids. Please tell them why that girl is wearing that old-fashioned wool uniform and blowing on that funny shrill wood flute.