MY BIRTHDAY IS A HOLIDAY

When I was a little girl I thought I was pretty special. My birthday was on a National Holiday. Memorial Day. The name was formally changed from Decoration Day to Memorial Day in 1882. Way before my time. But I remember my Nana calling it that. The purpose of the day was to honor the memory of those who gave their lives fighting for America. When I grew up, Patriotic Nationalism dominated this country. Flags flew everywhere. Parades and military marching bands entertained. Those that died in service to our nation were revered. Back then, Memorial Day was always celebrated on May 30^th. until Congress stuck their two cents in. They officially moved it from it’s traditional date, to the last Monday in May. This then gave the holiday a three day weekend. WHOOPEE! It eventually grew to become the start of the summer vacation season. Today the true meaning of the holiday is lost on most people. So during the Memorial Day weekend… folks now gather to getaway to the beach, amusement parks or wherever. They grill out, go shopping, watch the Indianapolis 500 or baseball, etc. Some will decorate the graves of loved ones, whether they’ve been in the military or not. And in the midst of it all… I will do what I do every year at this time. Hang out the flag and celebrate being another year older. No other BIG plans in the works. Though I must admit, my mouth is watering at the thought of the butter crème frosting that will be on my cake. And the lobster that will be on my plate.