Memorial Day

It is Memorial Day weekend in America. I don’t like the holiday. I know it’s the start of summer. A lot of us are having picnics in our backyards, getting together with friends and family. That’s all good, and truthfully I bought a new bag of charcoal for the weekend myself. However, that’s not what Memorial Day is for. It’s for remembering.

This weekend is off to a bad start. Maggie (the Great Pyrenees) has totally ignored the fact that it is a weekend and woke me up every day before 5:00 AM. Today was no exception. Maggie scratched on the bed at 4:45 AM.

Me: Maggie, (construction language) it is 4:45 AM. You lay down! Maggie: You need to get up. It’s Memorial Day Weekend. You need to get up and remember. Me: I’ve been remembering for a couple weeks now. I can start remembering at 7:00 AM. Maggie: You are not going to sleep anyway. You know you are already awake, just get up. Me: Just leave me alone. Maggie: Suit yourself.

For those of you that are thinking, “Oh, oh, Monner has lost it; he’s talking with the dog.” You guys have; #1, never watched Doctor Dolittle or the remake, and #2, you have never met Maggie. She is special!

Maggie doesn’t talk to everyone and most likely will not talk to you. She does however, talk to me. That is my story and I’m sticking to it.

Maggie knows I have a lot to remember about Memorial Day. I remember the military personnel that gave EVERYTHING so we as a country could argue about the President’s hair. (Political humor) I’ll stop there. We as a country owe these people so much.

I remember my parents, both gone now. “Mom, I know now why you left so soon. This world is getting crazy. I think about you a lot. Not just on this weekend. I thank you for everything! Miss you!" I will have more to say in a minute.

“Dad, thanks for taking care of Mom.”

Maggie knows what I start to remember and think in the middle of every May. I think about our son, Elaine’s and mine. Alex died on the Sunday of Memorial Day weekend. Elaine and I lost a son, Ivy a brother, and the twins a dad. “Mom, thanks for taking him with you. He’s better now.”

“Alex, I miss you, buddy!”

At 4:45 this morning, Maggie might have been trying to tell me there was dog vomit by my bed, but she didn’t say anything about that. We are not friends right now.

God, I hate Memorial Day. Enjoy your picnics and barbecues.

Our crazy lives!

Monner