Mindless Ramblings of a Disproportioned Woman

Poppies..
I bought poppies everyday this week whenever I saw them. I remember Dad would buy them and tuck them into his shirt pocket, around the button on the top of his hat, or sit them on the seat in his truck. I remember the woman who used to sell them here in M. Her name was Sylvia and she was old when I was very young. I don't remember how old she was when she passed, but I remember the saddness I felt the next Memorial Day when she wasn't selling poppies by Mulhollands or Caseys. I have tried to explain the importance to my children of buying poppies, the significance to support those who died to keep us free because they gave the ultimate price for their beliefs. I want to teach them to honor people, remember their sacrifices, and isn't it awesome to have HEROS? My children have been so lucky to have many heros amongst them in our family. Grandpas, Dads, Uncles,and Friends (Zach) who have served for their country. Grandmas, Moms, and Aunts (and sometimes themselves) who waited at home for them to return. How very lucky are we to have real life heros to look up to?
On this holiday weekend, please take the time to remember those who have fallen to help us maintain the freedom we live in.

In Flanders Fields
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Remembering, thanking, honoring,
wendy