This Memorial Day weekend was pretty uneventful for my little family. On Saturday I finished refinishing an old dresser and nightstand. I will post pictures when I get them in a room instead of my brother-in-law's garage. On Sunday, we visited my nephew at the hospital. I left my son there with his Grandpa and cousin while I went with my Mom and Grandma to decorate graves.
At the cemetery where my Grandpa is buried there is a grave not far from his for a young man who was killed in Operation Iraqi Freedom in 2007. He was 23 years old. The headstone was beautiful and flanked by two American Flags. It was a somber reminder of the reason for the holiday.
We generally look at Memorial Day as the first long weekend of the summer, a time for cook outs, camping, and play. Or as a time to remember all loved ones who have passed on. There is nothing wrong with either of these but the real purpose for Memorial Day is to honor the men and women of the military who have passed away either in service of their country or otherwise. Veterans Day honors the living men and women of the military while Memorial Day honors those who have passed away. I admit that I tend to forget why and focus on the fun.
Usually our fun involves camping. Last year it rained so much that our campsite looked more like a swimming pool. This year, camping was nixed as the majority of us are a little poor right now. Mainly due to car troubles.
My car is fixed now. It only took $3,200 but it is running and getting me from point A to B.
Tomorrow, I will sit with my nephew at the hospital. On Friday he was moved to rehab for physical therapy and to make sure he still has all of his faculties. When I was at the hospital on Sunday, he didn't seem to be doing too well. His head was hurting and so were his hips and back. Today the report is better. They allowed him to go out to eat with his mom. They went to Fuddruckers and apparently he did really well with the sun outside and the noise of the restaurant. Hopefully, he continues to improve like this so that he can go home sooner rather than later.
On a side note, he is at the same hospital where Gary Coleman passed away. When I told my dad this, he thought I was making a joke about his passing. I really wasn't. Although I was not a fan of the guy, I think it is sad that he has passed away. I don't think he really had a very happy life. I hope he is happier now than he was in life.
Gary Coleman lived in my small little town. My son and I saw a couple of years ago at a craft fair held at the city building. His wife had a booth and he was helping her with it. We bought something and he rang us up. I didn't think it would be appropriate for me to say anything about who he was, so I simply said "Thank you" when we were finished. I like to think he appreciated being treated normally.
5 comments:
Thanks for keeping us all up to date on your/our nephew. I've been pretty worried about not only him but also his Mama. Kids blow off trauma like this but the fear of it will likely never leave your sister! We've been praying for him throughout our family and are so grateful that it wasn't worse.
Who knew your little town could be so exciting? We'll be coming through again in early July to hit the Lavender Farm again. You should come with us!
What? Gary Coleman died?? I've been away in Loa all weekend without internet access, so I missed that. That really is too bad. Trevor and I were watching youtube videos of Different Strokes a few weeks ago--he really was the cutest kid.
Anyway, I'm glad to hear how Codie is doing, and I hope he feels better soon! What a difficult thing to go thorugh!
Thanks for reminding us what the day is about...and for keeping us updated on your nephew. I'm glad he is steadily improving!
You are a sincerel nice person, I can tell. I'm glad you're my blogging friend.
I've been thinking about Gary Coleman too, and the little bit that I have read about him, he seemed to be a terribly unhappy person. Several suicide attempts.
I def think he is in a happier place and feeling some rest from some of his demons now.
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