Memorial Day

Growing up Memorial Day was an important day in our family. We would get up early, go to the parade and listen to the speeches thanking falling soldiers and watching the wreaths float out into the water. Then the guns. I was always so scared of the gunfire. The noise.

My father served in the Air Force, his father in the Army. My mother's father in the Navy. When I was young my best friend's father was deployed during the first Gulf War. When I moved to Yuma I met many families who watched their loved ones go to the current Gulf War. But never have I experienced the true meaning of this holiday as I did this weekend.

Saturday Sarah and I drove to Camp Pendleton to spend some time with our friend Julie. I first met Julie in Yuma where her husband Wayne served in the Marine Corp. Currently Julie and Wayne have 2 children ages 5 and 3. Two beautiful, brilliant children. Saturday night we went the base family fun center bowled and ate pizza. We chatted a while and then went to bed. Sunday dawned early as the kids were up and raring to go! I jumped on the trampoline with the kids, watched cartoons and ate breakfast burritos. We chatted with the neighbor and had a great time.

I did not see Wayne this trip because he is in Afghanistan. He is serving his country while his family lives a seemingly normal life here in southern California. Of the 20 occupied houses on Julie's street 18 of them have husbands and fathers who are deployed. That is one street in one neighborhood on one military base.

This Memorial Day was special, I was able to see into the world that few get to see. I experienced the vacancy in a family. Julie and the kids are doing well, they are happy, busy and enjoying summer. But there is a vacancy in their house. One that will be happily filled this fall when Wayne returns to the United States.