I do recall from years of the long ago past, participating in what our family considered the "Proper" memorial day celebrations... Now, as a young pup, playing in a cemetary for a few hours, while the adult folk went about their business, was not exactly at the top of my "to do" list!
The day would begin with a trip to a nursery, picking up a few assorted flowers of whatever variety were available. The planting tools were already in the trunk of the car, and once checked out, we'd pile into the Ford and head "up north." My family (apparently) is from the Greenville area of Michigan. While dad had moved to the big city (tongue in cheed, Lansing's NOT that big!) his brother remained in the boonies and raised two daughters as dad began his own family.
The trip from Lansing to Sheridan (where uncle Mort lived) would take about an hour, perhaps a little longer. For me, it was simply forever! I always enjoyed visiting our country family... they grew their own veggies every summer, many of which aunt Donna would can towards the end of the season, to avoid spoilage/loss, and to provide produce into the winter months.
From here, it was another trip... Grandpa's house (farm) was in Greenville. I do have very vague memories of the old place, but as grandpa died when I was young, 4 perhaps, I recall very little - except the old hand pump at the kitchen sink! Did they have a wood burning stove in the kitchen - I do not recall!
The cemetary was somewhere in that vacinity of small towns, clustered in the Michigan countryside. As the day progressed, we'd plant flowers on the graves of those family members who had passed. Stories would be shared of "the old days," mosquitos would be swatted right left and center, and if we were lucky we'd have a tree to offer shade, and perhaps ice water, or lemonade to keep the thirst in check.
Of course, long before the adults were ready to call it "done," I'd be aching to head back to uncle's, to play in the barn - often we'd uncover a brood of feral kittens, though I knew well enough to leave the little babies be... Once weaned, they might allow a scratch on the head or such, but if mama showed up, it was time to let them all be!
The day might end up having a light meal with the family, before we piled back into the Ford to return to Lansing. I dare say that I'd nap all the way home - if my big sis would stop picking on me long enough!
Dad and Mort are now dead... I would guess that Mort is buried somewhere in that neck of the woods, but have little clue as to what became of dad. Per his wishes, he was cremated, and his remains presented to my step-mother in a very plain, brown tin! If I'm not mistaken, he's somewhere in TX now, with my sis... I guess the days of planting flowers at the graves is lost, unless my aunt and her first born continue the tradition. Fran has only recently returned to MI from somewhere in the Carolinas, Wendy (my sis) in TX, Linda (the next in line) is busy with her family... That leaves little ol' me here in AZ with friends as family substitutes. Mom is now 92 and living near Wendy, losing a few more marbles daily (I mean MOM, but dare say she's draining Wendy's supply of sanity also!)
So, there are my memories of Memorial Day from the ancient past. Did we ever bbq? I have no idea - if so, it was the anti-climax of the weekend!
Be safe, be well!
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