A Special Memorial Day Message
Hey Readers!
As we go into Memorial Day Weekend, I want to take a moment to honor all the brave men and women that lost their lives while serving in the United States Armed Forces.
My late great aunt, Irene, or “Renie” as we called her, was a member of the Daughters of the American Revolution, as my family dates back to the Revolutionary War. Her brother, my grandfather, was in the battle of Iwo Jima. He lost his only brother, Herby, on the beaches of Normandy, but continued to stay in the war despite being offered the opportunity to go home. Recently, I found a picture of him taken the day of the famous photograph, raising the flag. He only told me about it once, that he was there when they raised it. He’s the serious looking solider behind the guy holding the rifle.
My father, a Purple Heart Recipient from the Vietnam War, saved many soldiers from an exploding tank, which you can read about here: https://abusylady.substack.com/p/bet-on-you.
Memorial Day, however, is the day we honor those that lost their lives while serving. While my grandfather and father survived war, each took with them a lifetime of trauma that killed them little by little every day. Still, I was able to know each of them and wouldn’t be here today if they hadn’t survived. Many did not get that chance.
This Memorial Day, please take time to honor and remember all the brave souls who made the ultimate sacrifice in service to their country.
In honor of Memorial Day as well as many of your private messages stating you really enjoyed my April posts on a Poet’s Time Travel (where I share poetry written decades ago) I’d like to share a poem I wrote at 19 years old in honor of my grandfather. I believe the poem speaks to the trauma that falls upon not only soldiers, but their families. Also, check out this new, innovative book discussing freedom written by Chas Halloway—https://www.amazon.com/Free-World-Theory-Solution-Failing/dp/B0CNLJFG5P - it’s a great read for Memorial Day weekend that will expand your views on freedom.
Till Next Time,
Sarah
AKA A Busy Lady
P.S. Here’s the Poem I wrote years ago at the age of 19 for my grandfather, a veteran of World War II who lost his only full blood brother, Herby, on the beaches of Normandy.
Photo of my grandfather, courtesy of family heirlooms and my iPhone. © 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
October Moon
I spent a lifetime knowing you.
Up early in the morning
As your coffee brewed.
I listened to all those things you said,
Though I was
Too young to understand -
I knew you were my hero.
A man whose hands
Had seen blisters and scars.
They had saved the world,
And found their way back home.
Your feet had traveled through muck and mud and blood and tears.
You still kicked your legs in your sleep,
Running in nightmares,
Even after all those years.
I spent a lifetime
Missing you.
I look up at the sky
And wonder if you are there.
All those things you said -
I remember them.
I carry your wisdom in my pocket,
Your strength in my hands.
I sit and wait and remember
Watching you sleep
And hearing your deep belly laugh.
I sit and wait and remember
The suspender tan lines on your back.
Your boots were always too big for my feet.
Now, I can’t help but wonder,
Will I ever have the strength to walk in your shoes?
You were there a lifetime
And then you were gone.
Like the October Moon you showed me
Up high in the sky.
It’ll be there always, till the day you die.
Your blood pumps through my veins.
My eyes still wander to the sky and search for you.
For the October Moon
When the air is brisk.
It’s then that I remember:
You miss me too.
You love me too.
You held secrets buried too.
October Moon.
What a wonderful poem I love it. I am honored to know you. Concetta