Happy Memorial Day, American Squiders. I have returned to you, albeit slightly more sun-roasted than I left you. The sun and I have an understanding. I slather myself in sunscreen, it burns me in places I have never burned before or in places where I swear I put sunscreen.
Memorial Day always reminds me of my grandfather. He’s been gone eleven years now, but I still miss him and think of him often. You know, I sometimes hear my grandparents’ generation referred to as the Greatest Generation, and I have to agree. By the time my grandfather was my age, he’d fought in WWII, lost an arm, gotten his masters’ degree, was married, and had the first of his children. What do I have to show for myself? Sure, I have a college degree, and I’m married, but I still feel like I’m not really an adult, that I haven’t done anything with my life.
My grandfather went on to be vice president of an engineering company, help design NASA’s crawler, be part of a diplomatic mission to Russia, be head of the Mechanical Engineering department at a major university, raise five children and nine grandchildren, and ran his own company for years. Today people are more concerned with making sure they have the latest iPhone and are not taking responsibility for anything.
We owe a lot to the generations that came before us, that defended this country and worked hard to make it what it is today. Happy Memorial Day to them too, and I thank them for all that they’ve done.
