On the bubble

  Yesterday being Memorial Day there were a few postings regarding those we have lost over the years. Personally, I have been fortunate enough to discover that so far, no one in my immediate family has ever been killed in battle. My ancestors have fought in every war and conflict this country has ever had, from the very beginning to the present day and all have come home. But yesterday I did learn my uncle's cousin was killed in WW2. A bit distant but technically a relative. It did seem to me to be the closest one I know about.

  I was close with this uncle and I don't recall him ever mentioning that. Of course, back in those days that wasn't mentioned very often anyway. It would only be talked about with the immediate family, brothers and sisters, that sort of thing. Occasionally I would hear, we lost him in the war. That was about as much detail as was offered. By the time I was old enough to notice the Gold stars had all been put away, relegated to a box in the closet or tucked into the family bible. Yesterday reading that surname and wondering if he was related, I asked and was answered. It was answered by someone in my age group, a senior citizen, a baby boomer, you know, we old people. 

  I thought about that for the rest of the day and have come to realize something. We are most likely the last generation that will mention their names. We are talking about our parents and grandparents when we talk about those in WW2 or Korea. By we, I mean us baby boomers. Some of us knew WW1 veterans, although we may not have been aware of that. We are now those grandparents and great grandparents. We are the ones on the bubble of history. WW2 was a long time ago! It will have been 79 years ago this year that it ended. I'm 70. I have a grandson that may talk about me when he is seventy, but will anyone beyond that? Probably not. And as far as talking about my military service all he will have to say is, Grandpa retired from the Navy. There are no grand tales of heroic adventures, no great victories won, just the common sailor. Memorable? Well, hardly.

 As someone who has spent a great deal of time building the family tree, I understand how this gets misplaced. Many times, we choose not to speak of those that have been taken from us, the memory of the loss too great to bear. Keep picking at the scab, as our parents would tell us, and the wound never heels. Today there is a different philosophy concerning all that, you talk with a therapist or other health professional. In short, you seek counsel. Those that were lost early in life often get lost in the bigger picture, no matter the reason for that loss. 

 I have supported Wreaths Across America for a number of years now. I purchase those wreaths and help in placing them in our local cemetery. As a part of that, when placing the wreath, it is requested that you speak their name out loud. I find that particularly poignant. I think that for some, it will be the only time their name is spoken until the next year! I have among my treasures a newspaper clipping saved by my mother. On that page is a list of all those that served in WW2 from my hometown. It also indicates those that did not return. Some of the names are vaguely familiar, others are surnames I recognize and still others completely anonymous. I wonder who will keep that paper after I am gone or will it just be discarded as, old news. History works that way.

 I speak often of my parents, siblings and friends. I tell stories about them, about me, and about whatever interactions we may have had. I wonder if others are listening. Will they remember? Most likely it will be the same as with me, a vague recollection, a story heard somewhere but mostly questions. My grandchildren have heard many names from the past due to my interest in that. Floyd, Clara, Lucy and Elwood. Floyd is my great grandfather, and his 4th great grandson knows his name. I think that is important. Is it important to him? Not yet, not yet. The hope is that it will be one day. The hope being the name is spoken. 

 With each passing generation their names are on the bubble of history. Say their names, speak of them often and keep their memory alive. That is the intent of Memorial Day. lest we forget that they were living, breathing men and women. They all had families, friends and loved ones. More than names on a marker or in an old newspaper clipping. Consider this. 2054, that doesn't seem that far off does it? It's only thirty years. But it will have been 79 years since Vietnam ended. How many names will be remembered by then? Who will go to that wall having known the person attached to the name? How many out of the 58,318 names. Each name is on the bubble.