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Memorial Day...
May. 27th, 2013 03:10 pmIt's drizzling here today; appropriate, as that's kinda how I'm feeling. So unusual for our normal weather, and as a result there are not a whole lot of tourists in my town today. To boot, I'm also on-call today, a holiday weekend AND a full moon weekend. What was I thinking when I made the call schedule. I really have no one to blame but myself.
The older I get, the more I dislike what holidays have become. Milestones have morphed into an excuse for a three day weekend. The meaning, no, the reason for the day is lost. This one in particular now marks the beginning of summer for most, and an excuse to break out the BBQ grill, and maybe take the family to the beach, or worse, a sale.
For me, pacifist that I am, I'm thinking of 4 men, 4 relatives, each of whom served in the military, all of them no longer with us. I'm dwelling on their sacrifices, what they each did in answering the call to serve. Three of them served in the "good war", WWII; the last in Viet Nam.
My uncle and godfather, Mort Green served with the army in Europe, I believe with a unit that liberated one of the camps. It was not something he could easily talk about. He was married to my mother's sister and left here here with an infant daughter, when he left to go fight in Europe. He survived the war, and returned home, fathered another child, went into the family roofing business. He died of pancreatic cancer when I was 20. He was 55. Both mom's brother, Sidney Freeman and pop's brother David Bloom, served with the navy in the Pacific. Uncle Dave came back, went to college, then grad school, then medical school, the GI bill enabling some of that education. He returned to Brooklyn from the Midwest to do his residency in Pediatrics during the late 50's, and then went back to Minneapolis, where he'd gone to med school and met my aunt. He died 20 years ago at 66 of gastric carcinoma. Uncle Sid, turned 18 the day Pearl Harbor got bombed. He left shortly thereafter, getting married just before he left. He returned, finished school, had a couple of kids and became a jeweler. Uncle Sid passed about 13-14 years ago, 10 months after surgery for pancreatic cancer. He was 72. Each of my uncles came home from the war, outwardly intact at least seemingly so. I cared deeply for each of them. I still do.
Barry Hershkoff was my brother-in-law. He'd be 65 now, though he never made 60. He was horridly damaged by his time in country. Mentally scarred as well as physically, he was a recluse, and a chain smoker, for a while living with us on our property, in the cottage down the hill. My husband's relationship with his brother was difficult, at best. Barry's early death was in large part due to his damage he suffered from his time in the service, at least that's my belief.
Today I pray that each of them are indeed at peace.
The older I get, the more I dislike what holidays have become. Milestones have morphed into an excuse for a three day weekend. The meaning, no, the reason for the day is lost. This one in particular now marks the beginning of summer for most, and an excuse to break out the BBQ grill, and maybe take the family to the beach, or worse, a sale.
For me, pacifist that I am, I'm thinking of 4 men, 4 relatives, each of whom served in the military, all of them no longer with us. I'm dwelling on their sacrifices, what they each did in answering the call to serve. Three of them served in the "good war", WWII; the last in Viet Nam.
My uncle and godfather, Mort Green served with the army in Europe, I believe with a unit that liberated one of the camps. It was not something he could easily talk about. He was married to my mother's sister and left here here with an infant daughter, when he left to go fight in Europe. He survived the war, and returned home, fathered another child, went into the family roofing business. He died of pancreatic cancer when I was 20. He was 55. Both mom's brother, Sidney Freeman and pop's brother David Bloom, served with the navy in the Pacific. Uncle Dave came back, went to college, then grad school, then medical school, the GI bill enabling some of that education. He returned to Brooklyn from the Midwest to do his residency in Pediatrics during the late 50's, and then went back to Minneapolis, where he'd gone to med school and met my aunt. He died 20 years ago at 66 of gastric carcinoma. Uncle Sid, turned 18 the day Pearl Harbor got bombed. He left shortly thereafter, getting married just before he left. He returned, finished school, had a couple of kids and became a jeweler. Uncle Sid passed about 13-14 years ago, 10 months after surgery for pancreatic cancer. He was 72. Each of my uncles came home from the war, outwardly intact at least seemingly so. I cared deeply for each of them. I still do.
Barry Hershkoff was my brother-in-law. He'd be 65 now, though he never made 60. He was horridly damaged by his time in country. Mentally scarred as well as physically, he was a recluse, and a chain smoker, for a while living with us on our property, in the cottage down the hill. My husband's relationship with his brother was difficult, at best. Barry's early death was in large part due to his damage he suffered from his time in the service, at least that's my belief.
Today I pray that each of them are indeed at peace.
