Oh remember, remember...

Memorial Day is one of those holidays that people feel a variety of ways about. Some find it as a great opportunity to spend a three day weekend camping, in fact, I think it has come to symbolize the opening of camping season. Others spend the weekend watching war movies and celebrating military victories and the deaths of anyone who wasn't them. Some put up flags, salute those lost in defense of the freedoms that allow for a national holiday, stand at attention at ceremonies in cemeteries, remember. 

I've always been one of those sit around and enjoy a nice day off in the end of May kind of people. When I started teaching, this three day weekend was the nearing the end salvation break. This year, however, I wanted to make the day more meaningful than just another free Monday lounging on the couch. So, I told my dad I wanted to go to Oak Harbor and visit the graves of my immediate ancestors passed on from this life. He wasn't too keen on it, but it meant we could visit with his parents, so off we went to Whidbey Island.

We first went to the Oak Harbor cemetery to see my mother's parents. I hadn't been there in years, maybe even since my grandma was buried.  It was a really special moment to stand near them, even if it was just the shell of their bodies. I never knew my grandpa True and barely knew my grandma True. My dad was a little weird about it, so naturally I made a joke about being afraid of zombies. Maybe not the most respectful, but I use humor as a defense when I'm uncomfortable, so what did you expect? 

He surprised me when he said "I don't like to think of them like this. I like to remember them the way they were when they were alive." But I never knew them in life, so for me, this was as close as I could get. I got a nice picture of their headstones, but it is on my phone and I can't figure out how to get it off my phone and on the computer.

Next we picked up my grandparents Deighton and headed out to Coupeville.

My paternal grandfather's maternal grandfather, The Old Man.

My paternal grandfather's mother.

My oldest brother.

I imagine this was a harder cemetery for my dad since these were his blood relatives and not in-laws and acquaintances. I can't remember ever having been to this site before, so I was really touched to see these stones. I think about Tad on and off and wonder what it will be like to meet him. I'm thankful for the gospel that teaches us that we will meet him again. That he will embrace our father and mother and all of his siblings and we will be a family. I'm grateful for the holiday that urged me to remember and lead me to a place that can be sad, but should be joyful!