Memorial Day: Where’s the party?

Memorial Day weekend is here and I’m celebrating! My dad has a milestone birthday, a nephew graduated 8th grade, and the biggest celebration is that my young wandering niece surprised us by returning home after ten months abroad, and I’m at my sister’s house to help welcome her. We are thankful for blessings and joys large and small.

I suspect most people have fallen into the belief that Memorial Day is for parties in honor of graduations, summer’s arrival and the opening of the public pool. Some, though, will also visit a cemetery to put flowers on the graves of beloveds who have passed on. Some will remember the true meaning of the day and place a flag outside their door or even set a flag at the grave of one who died in a war. I did put up our flag before one daughter and I left to visit my side of the family for the celebrations. More important, I shook the hand of a young veteran at church this morning.

I suppose ignoring the true meaning of Memorial Day and saying it celebrates the beginning of summer is no different than ignoring the meanings of Christmas and Easter and concentrating on presents and candy.  We see plenty of holidays reinvented to satisfy personal purposes. War veterans and their families are undoubtedly unhappy, even angry, to see any casual disregard of Memorial Day’s purpose. They, after all, gave up a part of their lives.

Fortunately, in many areas the Boy Scouts and their families gather to decorate the graves of war veterans. If you have never seen the lines of flags set out over thousands of graves in a military cemetery, it is truly a heart-warming and heart-wrenching sight. Seeing all those lives given to the ugliness of war is like a punch in the stomach, yet there is a chest-swelling pride in seeing all the men and women who stood tall and strong to defend their country and even others far away . I doubt anyone could be immune to feeling chills—or tears.

This Memorial weekend, remember to hug a veteran and have a moment of silence for those who lost their lives. Remembering is all they ask.

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Adopted children don’t have family stories?

Years ago, when Cherry Blossoms in Twilight was first published, I had a short conversation with a sales clerk in a department store. As the young lady rang up my purchase, somehow it came up that I had written a memoir of my mother. I told her I now encourage everyone to write their family stories. I will never forget her response.

The girl said she was adopted so she didn’t have any stories of her mother. Her voice had a trace of wistfulness. I was speechless. Then I told her she did have a mother – an adopted mother who had stories, and those stories were now her stories. I don’t think she bought that.

This salesgirl was quite young – early twenties or even late teens. I suspect this is about the time when adopted children begin to really wonder about their roots and consider trying to find their birth parents. A very emotional time. She would be wondering who her birth family was and what her “real” stories were. Brings to mind a tough children’s book I read, The Jade Dragon, where an adopted Chinese girl felt pain at looking so different from her white American parents, enough that she wondered why they hadn’t just left her in China.

I can’t begin to know the emotional issues of adopted children, but I do know they have parents who cared enough to take in a child not born to them. At that point the child has a new family, and her new parents have pasts that affected them and in turn will affect their children, birth and adopted. They will give their children stories of their own to tell.

Adopted children will also have stories particular to adoption. How has it affected them, how have they adapted, how have they questioned, searched, resolved – or not. In a way, they aren’t different from anyone else with a special circumstance – of health issues, divorce, having a special talent that makes us stand out, a secret fear, etc. We all ask why, we all have to figure things out. In our own way, don’t we all have some kind of circumstances particular to us? Yes, we all have our stories.

I did a quick search for memoirs of those who have been adopted and found Jan Fisher’s Searching for Jane: Finding Myself, which tells the story of her struggles as an adoptee. (She was adopted in the 1950s.)

 

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Not Your Mother’s Book looking for your true stories

Yesterday I posted about writing a mother story to honor our mothers and to be a lasting keepsake for our families. Then I see Linda O’Connell has written a beautiful story on her blog, Write From the Heart, of her mother and the generations of mothers and daughters in her family. Way to write, Linda!

Linda has had numerous stories selected for Chicken Soup books, but she’s now working with editor-publisher team Ken and Dahlynn McKeown, former consultants and authors for the Chicken Soup for the Soul series, to collect edgier work for a new anthology series called Not Your Mother’s Book. Linda is co-creator for Not Your Mother’s Book: On Family, and is looking for your true short stories about your family. Her friend and mine, Dianna Gravemann, is collecting stories of motherhood for Not Your Mother’s Book: On Moms-to-Be and On Being a Mom. Ken and Dahlynn have a lot of books in the works, so take a look at all the topics. Be sure to read the submission guidelines and note how you will be compensated if your story is selected.

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