In 1983, my husband and I were in newspaper class together. It was a riot. We became friends and went on a few dates. Now it’s time for another anniversary.
Fast forward to 1988. It was a rainy Friday. We got married in a small ceremony, headed to his parents’ house for a “small” reception and then hit the road. We nearly missed the turn into our very unique hotel for the weekend at Canon Beach.
On the way home on Monday, I got a speeding ticket. Yep. Nothing makes a trip more memorable than ending it with flashing lights.
Now it’s 31 years later and we’re back at the beach for our wedding anniversary.
Rather than the “day” being Friday, this year it is the “observed” Memorial Day. And the beach is 70 miles or so further south: Gleneden Beach rather than Canon Beach.
We’re heading to the condo we “own” so there’s no chance we’ll miss the turn-off. No matter how dark or rainy it might be after a LONG week of work.
These days, I might go by Lolly and he might let me call him Pop. We have two adult sons and two beautiful daughters. There are three lovable grand-pups and a feisty grand-kitty.
Best of all, there’s an angelic little darling named Shana. She’s the newest love of my life. On this 31st anniversary of my wedding, I’m celebrating my first Memorial Day as a grandmother – chosen Grandma name: Lolly.
We’re doing some research for a family gathering nearby next month. We’ll eat out with my sister who lives a few miles away, and Hubby will have his clam chowder.
What do you do to celebrate anniversaries? Any anniversary will do! Especially if it means CHOCOLATE.
Sitting in a metal folding chair, I’m surrounded by parents. We’re in the gymnasium of our neighborhood elementary school. My son is receiving a reward.
The principal approaches the lectern and asks everyone to stand for the flag salute. All those first through fifth graders who were sitting “criss-cross applesauce” on the floor stand. In unison, 100 youthful voices say, “I pledge allegiance to the flag…”
I freely admit that an enormous clot of snot clogged my throat. Tears set my eyes on red alert. Something about a crowd of young people reciting the pledge with one voice chokes me up every time.
It’s the same with the National Anthem. This embarrassed me twenty years ago. People stared at me, wondering what I had to cry about. It was only a song, after all.
Eighth graders at the middle school where I worked for seven years still learn the history behind it. Sadly, I think to them, it’s just another meaningless factoid they’ll be expected to know for a test.
Patriotism dies a slow death in American public schools. How can I say this? Here are a few proofs:
Kids don’t stand for the pledge. Only five years after the incident where I listened to an entire school recite the pledge in unison, I stood dumb-founded at the back of a classroom. Tuesday morning the principal came over the intercom and “offered the opportunity” for students to say the pledge. In a class of 34 students, maybe 20 stood up.
Some of them talk during the pledge. The teacher in the room during a specific year I’m recalling is a veteran of the navy (and I served in the Army Reserves). A few students decided to have a confab during the pledge. When it was finished, she took them to town. It’s disrespectful to talk during this ceremonial action that takes all of 20 seconds to accomplish. You know what happened? One of the kids complained to his parents. Parents called principal and the time for the pledge was moved to a different class period so that student wouldn’t be in that teacher’s class during the pledge. Really? That’s a solution?
What’s the name of the National Anthem again? You might think I’m joking, but if I asked 20 students at the middle school, only 60 percent of them would be able to tell me.
Freedom is a right. American youth have an incredible sense of entitlement. The example of the kid tattling on the teacher is a perfect illustration. They have the right to do and say as they please. They are free to disrespect anyone and everyone. Freedom is a privilege, but these kids have so many privileges that they could care less about it (unless you infringe on their right to wear an obscene t-shirt to school).
Maybe I’m just an over-emotional woman, but I cried when I stood in front of the Vietnam War Memorial in Washington, DC, for the first time. A long wall of names of brave men and women who died so some kid could talk during the pledge.
Okay, that was an exaggeration, but in reality, what would make these kids sit up and take notice that their freedom of expression was bought and paid for by millions of pints of blood over hundreds of years?
Freedom is never free. As soon as we start taking it for granted, we’re disrespecting all the patriots who gave it all for our liberty.
How do you define patriotism? Do you think the youth of today lack it? Will they “grow into” it as they become more mature?