Memorial Weekend


Tonight I sat on the couch, having a glass of wine, waiting for you to come home. You always burst through the door with a huge smile and yell, “honey I’m home!” Tonight you won’t. 

Every morning you and I would sit on this porch swing and look at the neighborhood children playing. We would dream about our future and how many children we would have. This morning, we won’t. 

Every night before you would go to bed, I would kiss your forehead and tell you I love you and that I am the luckiest mother in the world. Tonight I won’t. 

You would watch me work on my old Impala, grease from head to toe. You would ask me a million questions about why I am doing what I am doing, what goes where and if we know how to put it back together. Today you won’t. 

“I love you and miss you like crazy,” I would say on Skype. You always responded with, “I love you more.” Tonight you won’t. 

Tonight as you kiss your child on the forehead and whisper goodnight, say a prayer for those who have taken flight.

Remember the true meaning of Memorial Day this weekend. It’s not about a three day weekend, getting the boat out or having a bonfire. It’s about all the parents that will no longer tuck their kids into bed. All the wives that no longer have husbands and all the men that lost their daughters. This weekend, we remember and salute the fallen.

        Copyright 2016. Written by Kristin Marthaler

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