Memorial Day

Every spring, usually sometime between Mother's Day and Memorial Day, my Mom plants flowers at her mother's grave. Growing up, I often accompanied her. I would fetch water and help with the planting. My maternal grandmother passed away before I was born, so those trips helped me to forge a connection with her memory. She loved hyacinths, something I know from asking Mom about the engraving on her headstone.

Felix and I spent the day at my parents house to day, and our morning outing was to plant petunias and marigolds at the cemetery. Felix is no stranger to cemetery trips with Mom and me (though I am surprised he didn't ask where the picnic was), so he was game. In fact, he aided me in my traditional water-bearer duties, before helping Gramma with the planting.

It was sweet to watch them watering flowers and planting together, and while not a strict interpretation of Memorial Day, I certainly think it's fitting.