Memorial Day was always a big day growing up. First off there is the story how I was born on Memorial Day. My mom said the drums from the bands marching by put her in to labor. Then I couldn't wait to be in school so I could walk in the parade. All the elementary school children were invited to walk with a bunch of flowers as part of the parade. The parade ended at the National Cemetery in Gettysburg and all of the school aged children would walk around putting flowers on the graves of those unknown soldiers from the Civil War. Later I marched with the band in junior high and high school and I was also part of the ceremonial brass band that would play as part of the ceremony in the cemetery after the parade. I grew up with an appreciation for those that have served our country. Teachers made sure we knew we were walking on hallowed ground as we put the flowers on those graves. I remember the lesson on not talking once we entered the cemetery and the reasons behind that rule. My parents shared stories of ancestors that had served in various wars. I'm grateful for those lessons I learned. I'm grateful for where I grew up and wish I could replicate some of the lessons I learned by growing up in Gettysburg to teach my children. I'm not sure I can without actually being there, because they are that unique.Here I am in the parade at the end of first grade. I'm the one with the knee socks pulled all the way up:)
